Good to Love
by Lyra Verse
Summary: AU. Michonne grew up in King's County and is now a well-known supermodel. She is managed by her boyfriend, Mike, who is determined to keep her relevant. Rick is a small-town sheriff's deputy who never left his hometown and never married the woman of his dreams - Lori. What happens when Michonne is suddenly pushed to go back to King's County in order to revitalize her career?
1. Chapter 1

\- This is a collaboration fic between Misty Knight and I. We each are responsible for certain characters' POVs. I hope you guys have as much fun reading as we have writing. Enjoy the AU! -

Chapter 1:

Johnny Cash's "Solitary Man" started suddenly and the gentle strums of the guitar sounded throughout the empty room that had previously only been filled with the incoming sunlight.

Rick's eyelids fluttered before parting and he was fully awake.

For a moment he just lay there, letting the song continue to play.

Rick Grimes' room was much like the man himself. Neat, orderly, and very one-note. The tones of the room were varying shades of brown and white. His white walls were clear of clutter and so were the surfaces of his dresser and the surface of his wooden floor. The only things that hung on the wall next to his door were awards and plaques he had received at work.

He sighed and hit the snooze button on his radio alarm, causing Johnny Cash's voice to stop warbling out of the speakers. Then he threw back his white comforter with brown trim and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His bare feet touched the floor and he yawned.

Time to get dressed.

He stood up in his blue pinstriped boxers, went over to his closet, and took down his sheriff's uniform that was already hanging on the door – ready to be worn. He carried it into the bathroom and started on his daily routine.

He brushed his teeth, shaved just enough so that he didn't look unkempt, and stepped into the shower. The lyrics of the song that he had just heard tumbled carelessly from his lips in a tuneless pattern as he stood under the warm spray of the water. When he could no longer remember the lyrics, the song turned into a hum and he stepped out of the rectangular cubicle.

As he pulled on his sheriff's uniform, he gave himself one more lookover in the mirror and then headed to the kitchen where he made himself his usual turkey and lettuce sandwich. He packed it into a brown paper bag and then headed out for the day.

Time to go to work.

When he walked into the police department, he immediately felt at home. The bustle of fellow coworkers moving around at their desks and the rustle of papers gave him a deep sense of comfort and belonging.

"Good morning, Rick." "Good morning." "How's it going, man?"

Many officers greeted Rick on his way in and he returned the nicety.

He smiled when he saw his best friend, Shane Walsh, sitting on the desk of Leon Basset. Shane was good-naturedly teasing the other man and Rick shook his head. "Leave Leon alone, will you, Shane?" he greeted.

Shane turned to Rick and stood up. "Hey~! He knows I'm just jokin' with him, don't you, Leon?"

"Yeah, yeah," Leon said, obviously annoyed.

Shane followed Rick back to his office and closed the door behind the two of them. The chair in front of Rick's desk quickly got occupied and his desk was next when Shane kicked his feet up onto the surface. "Whoo~" Shane whistled. "When am I gonna get an office like this?"

Rick sat down in his plush, swivel chair behind the desk and pushed Shane's feet to the ground. "When you stop goofing off so much and focus on doing your job," Rick responded jovially.

"Hey," Shane retorted. "Raisin' two hellions, now that's a job. They suck me dry. When I come to work, that's my time to play."

Rick's smile fell for a moment, but he quickly picked it up. "That doesn't even make sense," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Did you come in here for somethin'?"

"Oh, is that what it's like between us?" Shane teased. "All business?"

"Yeah, that's what it's like," Rick said, a friendly smile still on his face.

"Fine," Shane said. "I'll get to the point then. Lori and I wanna take a lil' week-long vacation up to the lake next month. We were wonderin' if you could watch the kids."

Rick tilted his head. "Didn't y'all take a trip up to the lake _last_ month?" he asked.

"Yeah, but what can I say?" Shane tried to hold back a smirk – unsuccessfully. "The lake does somethin' for Lori if you know what I mean." Rick forcefully kept a smile pasted on his face. He knew what Shane meant and he wished he didn't. "If Lori wouldn't have gotten her tubes tied, I'm sure we'd be on our third one by now." Shane slapped Rick's desk, proud and in good spirits.

For a moment, Rick wished he could deny Shane's request. He wished he had some huge event planned that he wouldn't be able to get out of. And then he felt guilty for entertaining that train of thought. For feeling envy towards his best friend. "Of course," Rick said. "You know I can watch the kids."

Shane leaned back in his seat, victorious. "Thanks, man. Knew I could count on you."

"But after next month, you'll have used up your vacation days," Rick warned.

"I know," Shane answered. "But it'll be worth it." Shane stood up from his seat to get back to work. "Oh, and come over for dinner tonight," Shane said over his shoulder. "Lori and I'll fix you somethin' to show our 'ppreciation."

"It's not necessary," Rick said with a shake of his head.

"No, come on," Shane insisted. "You ain't gon' be doin' nothin' but sittin' in front of your TV anyway. I swear, man, we gotta find you a wife." Shane rapped his knuckles against Rick's office door as he opened it to leave. "8 o' clock, man. Be there." He closed the door behind him, giving Rick no chance to refuse.

Rick shook his head. Shane was a handful, and the man he loved the most in this world.

Rick and Shane had been best friends ever since Shane had moved to King's County in the ninth grade. Rick wasn't the most popular boy in school, but he was someone that everyone knew. And the teachers loved him. So the principal, who was close with Rick's father, appointed Rick as Shane's welcoming guide for the first week of school. It was Rick's job to educate Shane about all of the club activities available, tell him where his classes were, and introduce him to other students but it was clear from the first day that Shane didn't need any help.

He wasn't interested in any clubs unless girls were involved and he quickly gained friends on his own. Before long, he was the one leading Rick around to parties and people Rick had never talked to before. Shane was a fun guy. Rick enjoyed his company and Shane enjoyed his. Their common interests kept them bonded. The year that Shane arrived was the year that Rick finally felt truly connected to one of his peers again.

He had other friends, yes, but he hadn't felt like anyone truly understood him ever since the first friend he had ever known had moved away with no explanation in the seventh grade.

So soon enough, Shane and Rick were always together. Wherever one was seen, the other was sure to be close behind.

Rick enjoyed the fact that, though they differed on a lot of things, they were also quite similar. That is, he enjoyed this facet of their relationship until Lori Stevenson stepped into the picture. She was tall, willowy, and had long, brown hair. She moved to King's County when both he and Shane were juniors in high school. And that's when Rick found out that one of the similarities they shared stemmed to even their taste in women.

Rick stopped reminiscing about his high school days and groaned as he stretched some of his sore muscles. 'I need to start working out more,' he thought.

The papers stacked on his desk beckoned to him and he knew he couldn't ignore them for much longer. He was _not_ looking forward to dealing with it. Sometimes he wished his job was more exciting, but being sheriff in a small town like King's County – where hardly anything ever happened – left him feeling more like a secretary than a police officer, and that was only par for the course.

He sighed, clicked on the radio sitting on the corner of his desk, and pulled the papers over.

Time to do paperwork.

" _-C.J, so we've heard about that new X-Men movie being produced-"_ A female's voice projected from the radio's speakers.

" _Not a new X-Men movie, Wanda. This movie is only about Storm."_

" _Oh, Storm? I don't keep up with all this superhero stuff."_

" _Yes, Storm, Wanda. And let me tell you, the comic book fans are EXCITED!"_

" _Yes-"_

The two entertainer show hosts shot their responses back and forth like they were playing a game of Ping Pong. Rick reached over to turn the knob on the radio in order to try to find a country music station. _"-and that's why we're talking about it. I've heard that there are talks of Michonne Tealle being cast AS Storm in the movie. Do you think that's true?"_ Rick paused and then drew his arm back to leave the radio on the talk show.

He started in on his paperwork as he listened to the two hosts rattle on. _"I don't know if it's true, Wanda. Right now it's only rumors and Michonne's reps aren't saying ANYTHING. But if it IS true, let me tell you...there are gonna be some mixed feelings."_

" _Mixed feelings? Why? Everyone loves Michonne."_

" _Not everyone. You've heard the rumors like I have-"_

" _Yes I have, C.J."_

" _Being difficult, being a diva..."_

" _Mmhmm. But sources say those are just rumors."_

" _They may be, but this Storm stuff is sounding LEGIT. As you know, they've been trying to cast this movie for some time. And_ _I_ _think, personally, that Michonne would be a GREAT Storm."_

" _Mmhmm. Is that just 'cause you think she's hot?"_

" _Well, she_ _is_ _hot. The woman is FIRE!"_ Rick smiled to himself. He shuffled through the papers and tried to concentrate on both his work and the entertainment news.

" _Well, she may be hot but can she lead a major film? That's what people are asking."_

" _Look, I don't care if she can act or not, Wanda. She can just stand there and my butt is gonna be in those movie seats."_

" _I believe you, C.J."_

" _And I know comic fans are excited. Michonne is gonna have to bone up on her research if she's really playing Storm. 'Cause some people have been waiting on this film a long time and she's gon' have to do it right. I just hope the movie can live up to the hype-"_ Rick scoffed. "I doubt she has to bone up on anything," he muttered to himself. He finally reached to turn the talk show off when his office door opened.

He looked up to see Leon standing in the doorway looking apologetic and slightly panicked.

"Yeah, Leon?" Rick asked.

"There's a fight outside the station right now."

Rick pushed his chair back from his desk and stood up. A fight provided the spark of relief and excitement he needed. At least it was a brief respite from the paperwork he was leaving behind on his desk. "Where?" he asked as he followed Leon out of the station.

Rick found Merle and Jim right outside the police station, in the middle of the street. A few officers had beat him there and they were keeping the two men away from each other. Shane held Merle from behind while the brawlers still glared at each other.

It was obvious who had landed the most punches by the lack of damage to Merle's face and the myriad of discoloration already forming on Jim's. Jim also had a bloody nose.

'Great,' Rick thought. 'Shoulda known it was Merle...' He approached them and held his hands up between them. "What's going on here?" he asked. He turned his head to Merle.

"Ask him!" Merle exclaimed, trying to jerk free from Shane's grip, but he was held steady.

"I'm askin' you," Rick growled.

"This prick almost ran into me, man!" Merle yelled. Spittle spewed from his lips.

"But I didn't!" Jim exclaimed. "I stopped before I hit him!"

Rick looked at the two cars parked on the street. The driver's side door of Jim's vehicle was still thrown open and there was still about an inch of space between the hood of his car and Merle's rear bumper. It was clear that the two vehicles hadn't collided. "He didn't hit you," Rick said. "So what's the problem?"

"He _almost_ hit me!" Merle said. "You know how much this cost?!" He gestured to his old beat up car. "Then he had the _audacity_ to start yelling at me to get outta of the middle of the street. This is a public area! I can be where I damn well please!"

"You were _parked_ in the middle of the street!" Jim yelled, holding his bloody nose. "You don't park in the middle of the street!"

"Is this true?" Rick asked Merle.

"Hell yeah!" Merle said. "There're too many damn potholes! I was tired of driving over 'em."

"So you stopped in the middle of the street?!" Rick asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I was gon' stop in to see you fine gentleman and tell you to write a letter to the governor or somebody – to get this shit cleared up!"

Rick shook his head and some of the other officers who had come out to watch the show chuckled at the spectacle.

Rick took note of Merle's reddened eyes and his slightly slurred speech. "Merle, you been drinkin' anything today?"

"Nothin' hard!" Merle said. "Just whiskey!"

Rick rolled his eyes. "Merle, give Shane your keys and come with me."

"Why?"

Shane started to put Merle's hands behind his back and he started to protest. "Hey hey hey! What's goin' on?! Fine! I don't care about the potholes! I'll just keep goin' down the street."

"Too late. We're gonna hold you 'till you sober up. Shane, get his keys."

Shane fished in Merle's pockets and found his keys after he finished handcuffing him. He threw the keys to Leon, who was standing just beside Rick. "Bring his car into the parking lot," Rick instructed Leon. To Merle he said, "You're gonna come with us."

Shane started pushing the handcuffed Merle toward the station. "Aw, this is some bullshit," Merle lamented.

"Jim, you need to be taken to the hospital?" Rick asked, ignoring Merle's protests.

"Nah," Jim said. "Don't want the medical bill. I'll just take care of this at home."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

They carted Merle into the station and once he was placed into a cell, Rick went back into his office and settled into his seat. He felt a little better after actually doing something. He turned the radio back on and found that the radio hosts had moved on to talking about the Kardashians. He turned the dial, no longer interested.

~ _Don't know that I will_

 _But until I can find me_

 _A girl who'll stay_

 _And won't play games behind me_ ~

Johnny Cash's lyrics came over the air waves once again.

A satisfied smile touched Rick's lips and turned back to his paperwork.

Time to focus.

* * *

 **Two weeks ago ~ Los Angeles, California**

"Michonne Adanya Tealle, if you move one more time, this dress will be getting stitched to your behind."

Jacqui Tealle, Michonne's aunt, and part-time seamstress stitched the last Swarovski beading on the back of Michonne's white gown. Her elfish features contorted concentrating on not ruining the delicate fabric.

Standing for three going on four hours straight was not the original plan Michonne had in mind to spend her 35th birthday. Every year for the past eight years, her fiancé Mike Holloway always had something planned whether it was a huge bash or a trip overseas. This time, Mike had been dodging her phone calls all day and didn't bother to wish her a happy birthday that morning. It took every ounce of willpower on Michonne's behalf to not snoop around. Thus, standing around being poked with needles was a nice distraction.

"Adanya," Michonne said, turning up her nose. "I hate that name," she moved to scratch her scalp, but remembered her aunt's warning and promptly stopped.

"It's a beautiful name, you'll grow to love it." Jacqui carefully cut the last thread and leaned back to observe her handiwork.

"You've been saying that since I was five." Michonne mused. Deciding to risk a sore ass, she looked behind her, the beading design woven into the flared skirt was flawless. She expected nothing less from her aunt, her work rivaling those who ran fashion houses.

"What's wrong?" Jacqui tilted her head to the side, catching Michonne's eye and the frown she had on her face.

Michonne shook her head and smiled, "Thank you, Auntie."

"You're welcome," she said standing up. Michonne ran her hands down the side of the mermaid silhouette enjoying the way the cool silk fabric felt underneath her fingertips. She rested her hands on her tiny waist and sighed.

"It's coming together nicely."

Her aunt, putting away her sewing kit, stopped and gave Michonne a once-over. "Well it should, you've been putting this dress together for how long, five years?"

"Seven."

"Too long," Jacqui scoffed.

Michonne rolled her eyes, the subject needed to be changed before her aunt started giving Michonne the same tired ole lecture.

"Unbutton me please." Michonne stepped off the platform and turned her back to her aunt. She brushed her locs to the side as her aunt helped free her from the constricting dress. "I need to give veganism another chance."

"Vegan what?"

It's like being a vegetarian except, no dairy or fish," she handed her dress to her disbelieving aunt. "And switching will help me get rid of the extra five pounds I've been carrying around."

"You are a toothpick, girl," Jacqui huffed, waving off Michonne's desire, "You need to gain weight."

Michonne slid into her black jeggings and pulled her NYU sweater over her head. Grabbing her phone, she plopped down on the couch, resting her long legs on the armrest. Michonne scrolled through text messages from numerous friends and associates, not a single text or missing call from Mike. While her aunt put away her supplies, she sent return messages to them, trying her damnest to not call Mike.

Heavy footsteps climbed up the stairs to where the two women were, alerting Michonne. _About time Mike._

"Ms. Tealle?" _Damn._ The voice was definitely not Mike, but instead Michonne's newest assistant, Glenn Rhee.

He made it to the top of the stairs and nervously glanced at Michonne. Walking towards her, Michonne received a better look at his appearance. He wore tailored maroon pants, black boots, checkered shirt, and a maroon bow tie. He flicked a stray strand of black hair that fell into his face back to his perfectly coifed hair and opened his Mac book.

"What is it, Glenn?" Michonne didn't move, even though Glenn was looking at all the free space she was currently hogging on the couch. He instead sat down on the floor, crisscrossing his legs.

"Jonathan and Kiera are downstairs to do your hair and makeup."

Michonne repressed her glee and watched inquisitively as Glenn sat his laptop on the ottoman facing her and clicked on a video. Mike's handsome face popped on the screen frozen in place, his smooth ebony brown skin glowed, and he proudly showed off his best feature; his grin. Glenn clicked the play button and sat back on his behind.

 _"Baby girl, did you really think I would forget about you on your birthday?"_ Mike chuckled _. "Come on now, you're going to have the best time of your life tonight. Imma makes sure of that if Glenn wasn't late getting there then…"_ He looked at his watch _. "I need you dressed and ready to go by ten tonight. Aye, don't bother asking Glenn where you're going because it's a surprise and the man can't keep a secret even if his job depended on it."_ Michonne glanced over at Glenn who looked like he wanted to argue in his defense. " _Don't fret, I'll see you later. Happy birthday and I love you."_

Michonne couldn't keep her grin from forming on her mouth, she silently reprimanded herself for doubting that Mike wouldn't pull all the stops to make her birthday an even bigger celebration than last year.

"Stella McCartney's people dropped off your outfit for the night and Tyreese should be here soon with the car that will get you to your destination," said Glenn. He closed the video and shut the laptop's lid.

Michonne nodded and bit her lip, she was eager to be pamper for the next few hours.

Aunt Jacqui sighed loudly enough for the other two to hear her, Michonne turned to her aunt who had her things packed and a scowl on her face. "Are you forgetting something?"

Michonne cringed, she made plans with her mother and Jacqui when it seemed as if Mike wasn't going to do anything for her birthday. "You and mom are more than welcome to come as well."

Aunt Jacqui folded her arms across her chest, "Michonne, you're always doing this."

"Doing what?" Glenn closed his laptop and tiptoed to Jacqui, taking her case and walking quickly back down the stairs.

"If Mike says jump, you say how high."

A snort of dismissive laughter escaped Michonne's mouth, "Auntie you're being so dramatic, it's not that serious."

"I'm not! I'm just tired of watching him jerk you around."

"Mm okay," she said, dismissing her aunt's accusation. Michonne headed towards the stairs not wanting this conversation to continue.

"Mm okay nothing," Jacqui yelled after her.

…

Michonne's birthday party was being held at a private mansion in Beverly Hills. After showing up fashionably late, in her couture Stella McCartney rose-colored crop top with matching draped long skirt and train. Michonne's dreads were piled on top of her head in a messy updo and her statement piece was a diamond choker necklace. She looked damn good and Michonne was actually enjoying herself. Despite wanting a small celebration, she didn't mind greeting the packed mansion filled with some of the hottest celebs and fashion elite in entertainment.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," the silky smooth voice with an English accent whispered in Michonne's ear. Michonne turned around and threw her arms around her friend and sometimes co-worker.

"Naomi, thank you," Michonne beamed. Naomi Campbell was just one of the long list of current and former models Michonne had the good fortune of working with, she dreamed about sharing the pages with women such as her, Linda Evangelista, Cindy Crawford and others, and that dream was fulfilled. Since she was sixteen years old, Michonne became a force in the fashion world and earned the title 'Supermodel' where she too can make a bold claim that she wouldn't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day.

After catching up with Naomi, Michonne made her rounds through the open living and dining area, soft purple lighting bounced off the all-white interior and decorations. All the typical furniture that usually occupied a mansion were replaced with over a dozen round tables with silk white coverings and fine china plates and silver cutlery. Music blared from the surround systems around the house, its source a DJ booth where Snoop Dogg spun her favorite tracks. Mike really outdid himself, but where was he?

Glenn appeared at her side, he gently put his hand on her lower back and guided her towards the center table where behind it was a movie theater size projection screen. Michonne yelped with happiness when she saw that Aunt Jacqui came after all and her mother Lulu.

Michonne's father used to say that she was a splitting image of her mother and a lie he did not tell. Lulu was a statuesque former beauty queen. She used to joke that she brought classiness into the marriage between her and Michonne's father which was true. She greeted Michonne with a warm smile, bending down Michonne gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

"My baby's all grown up," Lulu said, cupping Michonne's chin.

"Thank you for coming mommy… and auntie Jacqui," she winked at her aunt who gave a half-shrug. Michonne took in how regal her mother looked, wearing a knee-length black dress with a V-shape neckline, and a Cartier diamond necklace with matching earrings. Her brown eyes twinkled as she leaned forward and gave Michonne a kiss.

"I don't know how your father was able to afford all of this," she said. Michonne squinted her eyes and gave her mother's hand a gentle squeeze. "I told him not to spoil you… a sweet sixteen doesn't have to be this fancy."

Michonne's smile faltered, but she picked it back up and gave her mother a hug. She and Jacqui made eye contact both acknowledging that tonight was one of her mother's better nights and Michonne was eternally grateful for that.

A sharp sting on her ass made Michonne jump, turning around to see her best friend from high school.

"Sasha!" The two women greeted each other with a huge bear hug.

"HEY! I freaking miss you!" Sasha exclaimed, she took Michonne by the hand and pulled her away. "Come, let's go to the bathroom."

It took a while for them to find an empty bathroom, but they found one in the master bedroom. Michonne touched up on her makeup while Sasha wandered aimlessly around the room.

"Sooo, Mike went all out this year," said Sasha.

Michonne viewed Sasha in the mirror who briefly made eye contact giving Michonne an innocent smile. "Mike has always gone above and beyond," said Michonne.

"Well… not in everything."

Michonne put her hand on her hip, "Seriously? We haven't seen each other in three months and now you want to start stuff."

Sasha held her arms up, "I'm not… okay, sorry, how's life?"

"It's going."

"Oh yeah, so your career hangups have disappeared?"

Michonne sighed heavily and turned to face Sasha who sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "I keep getting offered these dumb roles where I play the dumb hot chick or worse a stereotypical angry black woman. My modeling career is far from over, but I want to branch out. I want an Oscar."

"Michonne, best friend to best friend, can I tell you something?"

Michonne eyes widened, "What?"

"You ain't no Viola Davis."

Michonne shot daggers towards Sasha causing Sasha to get up, she tried to give Michonne another hug only for Michonne to evade her.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I think you will get that Oscar, all it takes is one movie."

Michonne slowly nodded, putting her lipstick down, "And how's the life of a firefighter?"

Sasha frowned, playing with her curly hair, "It's over."

"Sasha!"

"Aye, being a New York firefighter wasn't for me which is why I need a favor from you," she said.

Michonne eyed Sasha, being friends for so long, it didn't take much thinking to know what that favor was. "You can stay at my place until you get on your feet here."

Sasha threw up her hands in excitement and refused to let Michonne dodge her hug, "Thank you! Ugh, I need this, a fresh start."

A knock on the door broke the women's mini celebration. The door then opened and Glenn popped his head in. "Michonne," Glenn whispered for no reason considering the bathroom was probably the quietest place in the mansion. "Mike needs you downstairs for your big surprise."

"I'll be down there," she replied. Glenn nodded and quickly closed the door behind him.

"Glenn is so afraid of you," Sasha said, chuckling.

"No, he's not."

"Michonne, yeah he is, he probably thinks any minute you're going to throw a phone at his head."

"Not funny. Glenn is a great assistant."

"I'm sorry Naomi Jr, but—."

Michonne slapped Sasha on the arm. "Stop, you know what happened."

"You know if you would've just leaked the truth, people would have been very sympathetic towards your anger."

"Sasha," Michonne whined. "It's my birthday and you're killing my mood."

"Ok, ok, ok. I'm sorry. Hey, you look beautiful tonight," she rubbed Michonne's arms and grinned.

"Thank you, shall we go before people start thinking we're snorting coke up in here."

…

"Now that the birthday girl has graced our presence, the cake will be brought out, but first my surprise gift." Mike took center stage, it was the first time Michonne had seen him all night, and he was more handsome than ever. His boyish grin shined brightly, he wore dark slacks, white button down shirt with royal blue checkered vest and solid blue tie. His sleeves were rolled up and his biceps flexed as he held the mic to his mouth. He blew Michonne a kiss causing her to blush.

"I had to really work my magic for this gift because my beautiful fiancée is a hard woman to please." Michonne shook her head and waved dismissively at his comment. "But, I am proud to say, Michonne you're going to love this."

Mike pointed to the projection screen as the room darkened. Pictures of Michonne as a child shown on the screen with Morgan Freeman commenting. Michonne almost laughed loudly at how pretentious the whole production was, but she swallowed that laugh when her and her very first friend popped on the screen and just as quickly left. She felt a presence by her side and looked to her left, Mike gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and grabbed her hand.

"Mike, this is a little embarrassing," she whispered.

"Shh," he wrapped an arm around her as they continued to watch the mini-documentary go through Michonne's modeling career and then suddenly Marvel creator, Stan Lee showed on screen.

 _"Michonne, my apologies for not being there in person to celebrate your birthday. I'm sure it's a dull one without me there."_ Laughter from the guests echoed through the room. " _But, I would like to make it up to you. I've heard a lot about you and I've seen your work, you are a strong, powerful woman. A woman that myself, the execs at Marvel, the casting director Chris Loy, and the director Andrea Harrison believes will make the perfect Storm."_

Michonne's eyes widen, a chill ran down her spine as she realized what was happening. She stood up for no reason except to make sure there was still feeling in her legs.

 _"You have the talent and the fortitude to start in Storm's first feature film and I for one cannot wait to see you light up the screen. Happy Birthday."_

The screen went dark and a thunderous applause surrounded Michonne as her guests stood up. Tears formed in her eyes, this may not have been the Oscar material she wanted, but it was a huge step in the right direction. She turned to hug Mike only to see him leaping back on stage.

"Y'all heard it from the man himself, Michonne will be the lead actress in _Marvel's_ Storm and that's not all."

Michonne touched her chest, shocked that she was being bestowed even more blessings. She looked behind her and was glad to see the happiness etched on her mother's face and even her Aunt Jacqui grinned widely.

"The movie will mostly be shot in Georgia, but in about two weeks from now, I was able to team with director Andrea Harrison and have parts of the movie shot in Michonne's hometown."

 _What!_ Michonne's head swiveled back to Mike who seemed oblivious to the frown that was growing on his fiancée's face.

"King's County has struggled for years and I, I mean Michonne and I, have always talked about giving back. You should never forget where you came from."

Michonne shook her head at the non-existing conversation she supposedly had with Mike. She tried to smile as she felt eyes on her, but she couldn't.

"So my next gift to you, Michonne," Mike pulled out what looked to be envelopes. "I have two plane tickets for us to fly to your hometown in two weeks."

 _No_. Is what she wanted to shout, but instead she bit her cheek. King's County was the last place on Earth she ever wanted to step foot in again.


	2. Chapter 2

\- Collab fic with Misty Knight.

 **Chapter 2**

Rick lazily strolled around the dining room of the Walshes' residence while a great portion of roasted turkey lay digesting in his stomach. He still had some of the aftertaste of the fine meal on his tongue. Reminding himself that he would have to thank the chef later, Rick walked over to a framed photograph that stood atop the mantle over the fireplace. The picture showed a smiling Lori and Shane at the hospital as they held their newborn first child, Carl between them.

The bourbon Rick currently held in a glass beckoned to him suddenly. He drank.

A small feeling of envy always managed to sneak its way into his heart every time he saw the Walsh family and how happy they were. And he saw them a lot. They were his best friends.

He loved them all and was happy for every success and accomplishment they made in life, but there was a part of him that always wondered...what if it had been me? What if he had been the one that Lori chose? What if he had been the one who now had two beautiful children?

But he would sweep those thoughts away as quickly as they came because he felt guilty. It wasn't right to covet another man's family. Especially if that man was your best friend. But it was hard not to let his thoughts stray whenever he went home to his empty abode.

A baby's laughter drifted through the doorway of the dining room.

Rick made his way to the door and stood there, watching the family in action.

Judith was currently creating a fuss by refusing to get into her pajamas.

"Come on, Judy," Lori coaxed. "We gotta go to bed, sweetheart."

Judith cooed and altogether ignored her mother. She wiggled her arms and legs, making it virtually impossible for Lori to outfit her in her sleeping clothes. An indulgent smile graced Lori's face as she took in her daughter's actions. She wasn't even frustrated.

Warmth touched Rick's chest as he watched them. He almost looked away when Lori glanced up and caught him staring. She seemed surprised that he was watching for a moment before she sent him a soft smile. "We'll be there in a minute," she assured him. "Once we get this one to bed." She tweaked Judith's nose, which made the little girl laugh harder.

"Lemme handle it," Shane said, taking the pajamas from Lori. "I know how to talk to her."

"Oh, you know how to talk to her," Lori teased, relinquishing the pajamas. "Fine. Let's see how you do."

"You don't think I can do it?" Shane asked.

Lori held up her hands innocently. "I'm just saying let's see you try," she responded playfully. "It's not like I haven't had to do this every night when you're late 'cause of work."

"Fine," Shane grumbled, taking Lori's exaggerated affrontation in stride. "I'll show you what I can do. Ain't that right, Judy? We're gonna have you in these clothes and in bed in ten minutes flat. Then your mama's gonna have to make it up to me for doubting me."

"Make it up to you how?"

"Oh, you know how," Shane replied, his eyebrow lifted suggestively. He wrapped an arm around Lori and pulled her close. She laughed happily.

Rick turned away from the happy couple and walked back towards the mantle overhanging the fireplace. He tried to tune out the happy chatter for a moment, and in doing so, he began to reflect.

Once Lori entered the picture, it had been like this for as long as he could remember. She and Shane getting lost in each other while he looked on from the sidelines. He thought this feeling would have gone away by now. This feeling of resentment and pain underneath his sincere love and happiness for his two friends. But the feeling didn't go away. He was beginning to believe it never would. He would have to live with it, festering like cancer, for a lifetime.

They had met Lori in Junior High. She had come to the school, new and beautiful. People immediately liked her because she was quiet and sweet. Rick liked her most of all.

It took Shane a little while.

Shane had been dating the head cheerleader at the time. And looking for new recruits, the head cheerleader – Stacy, had quickly began to try to get Lori to join the cheerleading squad. Lori wasn't into it though. Instead of standing in front of a crowd and waving pom-poms around, she was more interested in the Student Council and Future Leaders of America. She was conservative, a bit shy, and a bit judgmental. None of the things that Shane was fond of.

But it was when Stacy played a mean prank on Lori during a party and Lori ended up coming out of the confrontation a bigger woman that Rick started to notice a shift in Shane's view of her.

He broke up with Stacy and stopped complaining so much when Rick suggested they invite Lori to things. And then – Shane being the outspoken and blunt teenager that Rick wasn't – Shane ended up confessing his attraction first. And that was it. Lori was Shane's girlfriend from then on. And Rick was left wondering, 'What if?'

'What if I had confessed first?'

'What if I would have been more obvious?'

'What if we could have been the ones in love with two beautiful children?'

"Rick."

Rick was startled out of his thoughts when Shane called his name. He turned to see his friend standing in the doorway. He no longer heard Judith's babbling so he assumed Shane had worked a miracle and had actually gotten the little girl to go to sleep. "Yeah?" Rick answered.

"So when you gonna get you a wife, man?"

Rick sighed. Shane always teased him like this. He was wondering if the man would ever grow tired.

"Maybe when King County doubles its population," Rick joked. He took a seat at the polished wood dining room table set up in the middle of the room. "All of the women here are taken. Or do you want me to go ask Mrs. Niedermeyer on a date?"

"If she's willin'," Shane said with a shrug. Rick chuckled and shook his head as Shane pulled out a chair and sat opposite him. "I'm serious, man. Good lookin' man like you don't need to be spendin' his days workin' and holed up in his house alone. You need to have kids so our offspring can play together. Grow up and be tight like us."

Rick laughed again. "It's amazin' how much my getting married and havin' kids has so much to do with you. You care about it more than I do." Rick's voice was a tired gravel.

"Well, somebody's got to care about it," Shane shot back. "I doubt you woulda even lost your virginity if I wouldn't have made you go out with Julie Hills our freshman year of college."

"Don't mention that," Rick said, bad memories flooding his mind. But amusement colored his voice. Looking back on it, he could find humor in the situation. "I hate you for that, you know that? She practically forced herself on me. I was scared out of my wits! I thought she was possessed!"

"Well, you musta done somethin' right. She stalked you for the rest of that semester," Shane laughed.

Rick shook his head. "I really oughta pay you back for that..."

"Pay me back? Man, you owe me for that."

He nodded his head, signaling Rick to give him the rest of his bourbon that he wasn't finishing off. Rick slid it across the table and it scraped a straight path right to Shane's hand. "Shit," Shane said, noticing a small mark in the polish of the wood. "Remind me to put a bowl, a vase, or some shit over that. Lori'll kill me if she sees it."

He finished Rick's drink and hissed as the bourbon warmed its way down his throat.

"But I'm serious, Rick," he started back. "Whatchu waitin' for?" He paused. And then smirked. "You waitin' for that model to come back into your life?"

Rick cleared his throat, wishing that he had another glass of bourbon. Again, he was wishing that this was something that could have been forgotten by now. "Nope," he replied, hoping they'd quickly get onto another subject. "That's over."

Shane leaned back in his seat and studied Rick. "Uh huh..." he said. "You know, I still don't believe you, right? A cock-and-bull story about you and a top model having some epic romance..."

"Why not?" Rick asked. "You know she grew up here. Hell, you interviewed the whole town after I told you and you heard them all say she and I were close..."

"Close, yeah, but you were her first love, Rick? And she dedicated her first magazine spread to you?"

Rick shrugged. Stubbornness and indignation that Shane still found it so hard to believe that he had dated a model spurred him to continue a lie he had started in college.

The lie that Michonne Teale and he were young loves, and that he had had to break up with her due to their long distance relationship.

"Yeah," Rick said. "What's so hard to believe about that?"

"Well, tell me this," Shane said. "If she was your girlfriend, why did it take you so long to tell me? You didn't tell me 'till college. And y'all were supposedly together during high school. Hell, y'all were supposedly together during the whole Julie Mills fiasco. Why'd you go out on a blind date if you were already dating someone?"

Rick blushed. He was no good at lying. But pride demanded that he keep this up.

He shrugged. "The long distance thing..."

"Bullshit!" Shane said. "You wouldn't cheat if you had a girlfriend, Rick, I know you!"

"Are y'all arguing about this again?" Lori came into the room and spoke in an exasperated tone. She reached the dining room table and kissed Shane on his forehead before she sat down herself. "Leave him alone, Shane. If he says he dated Michonne...I believe him!"

"I appreciate it," Rick said.

Lori nodded her camaraderie.

He turned a childishly victorious stare to Shane. 'See?'

Shane tsked. "You're both delusional."

* * *

 _Junior Year of College_

Rick felt as if all of the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Lori Reynolds...would you please do me the great honor of being my wife? I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Rick watched Shane propose to the woman he had had a crush on for about four years. Lori gasped with tears in her eyes and he watched her accept the ring while nodding profusely, as she couldn't speak.

They were in a restaurant, La Bella's. And there were ten other people in the room. Rick had wondered why Shane, a man country from his head to his toes, had chosen such an upscale place but everything was made clear in that moment. And Rick would remember the moment forever.

He felt as if his whole world was falling apart, but he mustered a smile and congratulated his best friends. They deserved it.

Shane announced that Rick would, of course, be his best man and Rick was extremely touched. They had agreed a long time ago to be there for each other on their most significant day.

But he still battled those underlying feelings during an outing that had suddenly turned into an engagement ceremony.

And then Shane's playful teasing started. And Rick just hadn't been in the mood for it that day.

"You know since you're my best man, you'll have to bring a date to the wedding," Shane started. "You got any ideas?"

Rick forced a smile. "Nope. Not really."

"Of course..." Rick said, his arm wrapped around Lori's shoulder. "Rick, I swear you're probably the most hopeless man in this room. Even that kid's getting more play than you." Rick looked over his shoulder to see a four-year-old drinking his mother's breast milk while the father glanced around with an embarrassed expression on his face. Rick turned back around quickly before the father's eyes met his.

"Shane," Lori admonished. "That's inappropriate."

"I'm just sayin'," Shane said. "You gotta get in the saddle, Rick. Have you even dated anyone?"

Rick looked between Shane and Lori. Not only was Shane looking at him curiously but Lori was as well. He shifted in his seat, embarrassed.

He had dated before. He had dated plenty of girls. The country gentleman thing seemed to work for him. But he had never dated anyone...memorable. He could barely remember their names. Or faces. He had just been trying the dating thing while also trying to keep his mind off of the girl he really wanted to date – his best friend's girlfriend. None of the "relationships" lasted long. Definitely not long enough for him to even inform his best friend that he was dating anyone.

And now he was embarrassed because he couldn't even recall them fully.

"Yes," he answered Shane vehemently. "Of course I've dated."

"Who?" Shane asked.

"Who?!" Rick asked incredulously, as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world.

"Yeah. Who?" There was a sincere note of curiosity in Shane's voice. "I woulda thought that you'd tell me if you were dating anybody..."

'Great,' Rick thought when he realized Shane was also slightly hurt.

"Well, I couldn't tell you," Rick said quickly, thinking off the cuff.

"Why not?"

'Because I can't even tell myself...' Rick thought. Shane waited for Rick to answer and only one female came clearly to his mind.

He didn't know why she came to him in that moment. She was a childhood friend who had vanished like a phantom, but she came to his mind clear as day.

"I couldn't tell you because she's famous," Rick said, rolling with it. "I couldn't risk it getting out."

Shane's eyebrows raised. He was shocked.

Lori leaned forward in her seat. "Famous?" she asked. "You're dating someone famous?"

Rick froze. 'What are you doing?' he asked himself. Lori was still staring at him with interest. He swallowed a sizable amount of saliva that had been produced in his nervousness. "Well, I-I. Yes. Well, not anymore," he stammered.

Shane stared at him suspiciously. "You're lying."

"I'm not!" Rick said. He quickly fished around for the story in his head. "You know Michonne? Who grew up in King County?"

"Of course I know Michonne!" Shane said. "She's super famous right now! Wait...You-"

"You dated Michonne?!" Lori asked.

"Well- I-...Yes."

* * *

Michonne's pen held still in her hand, waiting for her to write down anything substantial. Michonne stared blankly at the paper while willing her brain to conjure up beautiful proses to say to the residents of King County. Finally, a spark lit and her pen began moving, creating smooth strokes across the paper, and when she was done writing, Michonne looked at her progress.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The four-letter word was written five times across the paper. Michonne groaned, balled up her paper and tossed it across the room, it landed cleanly in the wastebasket. Pretending to be happy to be back in her hometown would take more acting prowess than portraying an iconic comic character. She pinched her bottom lip and stared at the script on her desk and then her eyes swept to a list beside it. She moved the list in front of her and glanced over the names Michonne would want at her and Mike's wedding. Grabbing the pen again, she swiveled it between her fingers, contemplating whether she should add one more name. As her brain began to work, her door slowly opened, and Sasha's smiling face and big hair popped through the open space.

Michonne looked up and greeted her friend with a smile, "Hey girl!"

"Why does your office look like a botanist's dream?" There were flowers all over Michonne's office, roses, lilies, assorted, and her favorite, yellow tulips. Sasha plopped down on the plush navy chair, picking at the vase of white roses at her side. "And please tell me suffocating you with flowers is not Mike's idea of an apology."

"Suffocating you with flowers is not Mike's idea of an apology," Michonne repeated flatly. She focused back on her list that'd been revised multiple times over several years. She felt Sasha's judgmental gaze boring into her forcing her to meet her friend's eye.

"Michonne…," Sasha stopped messing with Michonne's roses and leaned over, resting her elbows on the desk.

"Sasha, I don't want to hear it from you too." Michonne sighed and sat her pen down and placed her list in the drawer. "Mike secured me the lead role in the most talked about Marvel movie since Black Panther. This is huge."

"He also didn't tell you that going to your hometown was part of it," Sasha countered. "If I know how much you hate that town then Mike definitely knows and yet he still did it anyway without consulting you."

"He doesn't know."

Sasha's mouth dropped and she gave an exaggerated head roll. "Mi. Chonne! He's your fiancé, the man of your dreams, and you haven't told him what happened to you?" She frowned, "I almost read him the riot act this morning because I thought what he did was cruel."

Michonne crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing and her jaw tightening. "You don't need to do anything, but work on yourself. I haven't told Mike because I'm not ready to and I'm starting to regret telling you."

Sasha winced, "Don't be like that, Mich. I'm sorry, I just... don't want to see you hurt."

Michonne's eyes soften, she knew Sasha meant well, but Sasha's way of meaning well was too intrusive. "I'm just tired Sasha," Michonne admitted quietly. "I'm tired of the lectures, if I didn't leave Mike after…"

"After you caught him balls deep inside that messy bitch, Jessie." Sasha quickly shut her mouth, realizing once again she said too much.

Michonne shook her head, "Stop it. We're in a good place, a better place than ever before. I don't want to hear it," she said emphatically.

"Ok," Sasha agreeing a little too readily. The door opened again, Glenn came scrambling in, an iPad in one hand and his phone in the other, his eyes widen seeing Sasha sitting.

"Is this a good time?" He asked.

"Sit, please," Michonne said, giving Glenn a warm smile. She could feel the nervous energy radiating from Glenn. Turning to Sasha, "Why are you here anyway?" she asked her lightly.

"I need the keys to the guest house and I was told you have the only set."

Michonne nodded, opening her drawer, she grabbed the keys Sasha needed and tossed it to her friend. "Have all the furniture arrived?"

"Yeah, but you didn't need to redecorate the whole place."

"Consider it a peace offering."

Sasha's mouth quirked at the corners, "I feel like I should be the one giving you a peace offering."

"Your silence will be a start," Michonne quipped.

Sasha nodded her head, "Oh... ok..." she said sarcastically. She stood up and walked to the door, opening it just a bit, she turned to Michonne and Glenn, giving them a slight wave, "See you later, bye Glenn."

"Bye," Glenn replied from his seat.

Michonne waited until the door was closed and she was sure Sasha was gone and turned to Glenn. "When does shooting end for Storm?"

Glenn's tablet lit up, he scrolled through his list of dates, "The scheduled end date is April 18th, ma'am."

"Michonne, Glenn, please call me Michonne," she said. Glenn nodded. "Ok, schedule my wedding on May 20th."

Incredulous, Glenn leaned forward and whispered, "Do you want to talk with Mike first?"

Michonne shook her head, "No. May 20th is the date. What I need from you is to call Heath Lawrence, he's the best wedding planner in this country, but most importantly he's discreet."

"What's your price range?"

"Do you think half a million is too much?" She asked, nonchalant.

Glenn stared wide-eyed, nodded his head and then quickly shook it, "No. It's your day," he replied with a small smile.

Michonne nodded and went back to her desk, she pulled out the list of guests and gave it to Glenn. "Could you make an electronic copy of this and email it to me."

Glenn grabbed the paper from her, "Ok and your interviews with E!, Access Hollywood, People, and EW are at eleven and then you have lunch with the other cast members of _Storm_ at 1:30 at Marvel headquarters."

"Ok, thank you."

"No problem, ma'am—Michonne, sorry." Michonne waved off his flub and just before Glenn left the room, she called out to him.

"Hey, I need to add one more name to the list."

Glenn handed the paper back to her, Michonne took her pen and wrote the one person from King County she would actually be happy to see again.

* * *

Michonne sat at the dining table after a long day of press and fake smiling, she picked at her tofu stir-fried, wishing it was a juicy double cheeseburger from Five Guys. Putting her fork down, she then picked up her glass of pinot noir and drank a generous amount, watching Mike from across the table enjoying his steak and texting in between bites. A long time ago, they were able to fill the silence with an endless conversation about their past, present, and future.

 _We're in a better place than ever before_. Michonne closed her eyes, internally cringing from the lie she told Sasha, she doubted Sasha believed her, Michonne didn't even believe herself. It wasn't better, the falsehood of her and Mike's relationship was slowly wearing Michonne out when the arguing stopped, the passion stopped as well.

"I set a date," she said. Mike looked up from his phone, a curious expression crossing his face.

"For what?"

Rolling her eyes, she finished the rest of her wine and planted it on the table, harder than she intended. "Our wedding date, Mike."

"Ok… when is our wedding?"

"May 20th."

Mike scoffed which made Michonne turn up her nose, "Problem?" She asked.

"I hope you mean May of 2018 and not a month after you wrap up _Storm_? How are you going to find the time to plan a wedding and shoot the movie?"

"God did grant us the ability to multi-task," she quipped.

Mike waved his hands, "No, your focus needs to be 100% on Storm," he beat on the table with his finger, emphasizing his words.

"My focus will be on whatever I choose," Michonne said sharply. "And before you start, I know how important this role is, I know that all eyes will be watching and ready to criticize, I know this movie needs to earn back what the studio will spend and more, and I know this movie can make or break my career as an actress," Michonne reached for her glass and then stopped when upon seeing it was still empty, "I have never taken a job lightly and I'm not about to start." Michonne paused telling herself to not cry, "But, I am not waiting another year, by the time May rolls around next year, we would be engaged for eight years. Eight years."

Mike's head bent forward, shame in his eyes.

"Do you want to marry me?" Michonne asked, her heartbeat sped up and she was no longer hungry, she was sick and tired of his excuses.

"Of course, I do, baby." He got up from the table and strutted to her, he reached out and touched her cheek, smiling warmly. "I want you to be my wife. That desire has never changed, I just worry about you. You remember what happened last time you had too much on your plate?"

Michonne bent her head down, slowly nodding and biting the inside of her cheek. She remembered.

Mike lifted her chin, forcing her to look him the eye, "I love you and May 20th is a great date."

Tears in her eyes, Michonne smiled widely and happily nodded. "Great. That's great. And I'm not going to be planning the wedding by myself, Glenn is working on hiring a wedding planner who'll be doing the bulk of the work."

Mike stood up straight, his phone lit up in his hand and he responded to whatever message he received a little too quickly to Michonne's liking. Her smile faltered, Michonne's brief happiness slipping away. "Good," he said, clearly distracted. After a few swipes on his phone, he placed it in his pocket and turned to her, "Hey what happened this morning?"

Michonne tilted her head in confusion.

"The interview with E network?" He elaborated.

Michonne shook her head, her cheeks burning, "Nothing."

"Baby, that wasn't nothing. You refused to talk about your hometown, why?"

"Because I specifically requested that we not bring up that place."

Mike laughed, he shot her an incredulous look. "That place is where we will be filming parts of _Storm_ , you have to talk about it. Successful star giving back to her fledgling town. That's your story, that's how you're going to gain more recognition. Positive recognition, especially since the tabloids paint you as a b—."

Michonne stood up quickly, a flash of hot anger coursed through her veins, "And who fault is that?" she hissed. "I'm going to bed." She stormed off to her room, trying to keep the voices of her Aunt and Sasha saying 'I told you so' out of her head.

* * *

Michonne woke up to her nose and throat burning, the taste of bile on her tongue made her gag. She rushed from the bed and to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and drinking as much water as she could to get the horrible taste out of her mouth.

Unfortunately, no amount of water could make it go away. _See, the burger wouldn't have given you acid reflux._ Michonne dragged her feet hoping that there was fruit downstairs that would soothe her burning throat. But a small black box on her nightstand caught her attention. She sat down on her bed, noticing that Mike's side of the bed hadn't been slept in. It was well past midnight, but Michonne didn't have the energy to worry about what her fiancé was up to this late at night.

She turned her focus back on the little box, turning the lamp on, she bounced the box in her hand, weighing the lightness. Her lips pressed tightly and then she loosen them, allowing a heavy sigh to escape from her mouth as she opened up the box.

Inside the box, at the top, Lorraine Schwartz's—an esteemed jeweler—name was inscribed and then the main attraction, a massive heart shape diamond ring. Michonne carefully removed the ring from its box and inspected the jewelry. Words were etched inside the platinum band.

"You have my heart. Mike." Michonne read aloud. Putting the ring her right hand, she placed both her hands out and compared the two, the original engagement ring was round cut with smaller diamonds encircling the band. The centerpiece itself had fewer karats which reflected Mike's budget, seven years ago, but Michonne still felt it was more special.

She took her newer engagement ring off and placed it back on the box and on the nightstand. She then noticed the note that Mike left behind and picked it up. A simple typed note that stated 'How about an upgrade?' and then a smiley emoji.

Michonne frowned at how unromantic the gift was, did he really think she was okay with this? _Yes, because you never speak up anymore, because you took him back._

The awful taste in her mouth was dissipating. She stood up and stretched her limbs and walked over to the many suitcases she would be taking with her to King County.

 _When did I become so pathetic?_

A woman with her looks, money, and career could find any man she wanted, but Michonne couldn't detach herself from Mike. _He was there when you were falling apart, he helped you picked up the pieces. He's a good man and he's your first real relationship._ Her optimistic side spoke to her, but then the pessimism showed up.

 _He's a cheater, he broke your heart and made you look like a fool, and he'd do it again._

Michonne shook her head, ridding the back and forth thoughts in her mind. She sighed looking at the bags, in disbelief that she was heading back to King County in two days. Butterflies churned in her stomach, knowing Mike, Michonne knew her coming back to her hometown would be a big production.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, she glided over and saw a new email from Glenn. He had done as she asked, she opened up the file, and scrolled down the list of names that Glenn so diligently alphabetized by the last name. When Michonne scrolled to the G's, she slowed down, her breathing growing heavier as she gazed upon a name that only a few days ago she remembered.

Rick Grimes.

She smiled as memories of their adventures together as children came to her mind. Rick had been her best friend, her only friend until she moved away, abruptly and without telling him why.

She wondered what Rick was like now. Was he still painfully shy around girls, was he still doing whatever his dad asked him? Is he married? _Yeah, he's probably married with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence._ For some reason, the thought of her former friend being attached made Michonne feel uneasy. She shook away the silly notion that like some Hollywood movie, he was waiting for her to come back home.

No, Rick Grimes has more than likely moved on.


	3. Chapter 3

\- Update for the collab fic between me and Misty Knight. -

Chapter 3

Michonne couldn't sleep.

Sitting in first class with access to luxuries designed to help you have a relaxing flight; Michonne felt uncomfortable. No matter how many times she twisted in her seat searching for the perfect spot, she couldn't shut her brain off. She only had a few hours before she landed in Atlanta and her body refused to let her take advantage of that time.

Michonne rubbed the back of her stiff neck, massaging the kinks that gathered from lying her head down at awkward angles. There were only a few people in first class with her, scattered about and doing what she couldn't; sleep. One of those people was Mike, who sat next to her, snoring lightly with his phone clutched in his hand. Michonne gazed at Mike's phone, his precious, Mike never left it out of his sights, and Michonne felt it was mostly because of what happened the last time he left his phone unintended. It ended up crashing against a wall despite the fact Michonne was aiming it towards Mike's head.

Rubbing her fingers together, she leaned close to him and reached for the phone, but then hesitated. She closed her eyes, shaking her head, grown women don't snoop through their boyfriend's phone especially a grown woman who is planning a wedding with said boyfriend. And as if the Lord or maybe the devil was sending her a sign, Mike's phone lit up, two flashes and then it went dark again. Mike remained mostly motionless with the exception of his eyes twitching under his closed lids and his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm.

Michonne licked her lips and weighed her choices a final time. She could scroll through Netflix's catalog for a movie or she could put her mind at ease. She took a deep breath, letting it out she made up her mind. Reaching for the phone again, her eyes darted around her to see if anyone was watching. Michonne's fingers lightly gripped the phone and she tugged. Her lips tightened and her eyebrows drew in, she stopped breathing as she slowly wiggled Mike's phone from his grasp until it was dangling between her fingertips. Not daring to take a breath, Michonne eased slowly back in her seat and turned away from Mike.

 _You're being dumb._

But, her inner voice couldn't deter Michonne from sliding the lock screen to the left. To her amazement, Mike didn't have a password set, she looked behind her should check on Mike, satisfied that he was still asleep, she opened up the most pressing item on her mind; his messages.

Michonne received another shock, Mike only sent out two text messages and received three and those were between him and his best friend, Terry. Michonne frowned, none of the messages were incriminating, and so she clicked out of it and clicked on the email icon. Dozens of saved emails, too many for Michonne to feasibly go through in a timely manner, but one caught her eye. An email with the subject line titled _King County Events_. She opened the template and felt the urge to want to wake Mike. She wasn't just doing a simple hi and bye, Mike had interviews planned, a meeting with the Mayor of King County, and worse, a parade. Shaking her head, Michonne lied back against her seat and stared at the ceiling of the plane. The whole weekend was scheduled to celebrate the return of the town's prodigal citizen.

A loud snort emitted from Mike, Michonne jerked her head and saw that he was still asleep. She rolled her eyes, irritation swept quickly through her body, followed by anger. Her fingers clutched his phone and she stared a hole into him. I'm in love, right? Isn't that what I told my aunt and Sasha? Michonne carefully placed the phone on Mike's lap and turned away from him, she shuffled her pillow and put a sleeping mask over her and on her eyes, and made another attempt to sleep.

…

By the time, Michonne landed in Atlanta, went over security detail with her bodyguard, Tyreese, and made it passed paparazzi she was tired. And then after a two-hour ride down to King County, Michonne was downright exhausted and then some when Mike informed her of the impromptu dinner, the Mayor of King County invited her to.

Dressed in an Asian-inspired floral print _Dries Van Noten_ dress, Michonne took one step out of the car and immediately wanted to turn back around.

"A small dinner, Mike?" She asked through clenched teeth. There were at least 10-15 people streaming in and out of the Mayor's home. All of them dressed as if tonight was a black-tie event and not a simple dinner.

"I thought this would be a great way for you to meet some of the elite here in King County." Elite? Michonne wanted to laugh, she may haven't set foot in King County in years, but she doubted there was anyone elite that lived here. Just wannabes who lucked out on making over $100,000 a year and thought they were someone. Mike linked his arm with hers and walked with Michonne towards the house until she stopped and yanked it away.

She sighed, "I am tired of you only telling me what you think I should know."

Incredulous, Mike scoffed, "I'm sorry, I didn't give you minute by minute details of your day. I told you we were having dinner with the mayor, here we are having dinner with the mayor."

Michonne crossed her arms, "Don't patronize me. This is a party, not a dinner. I want to sleep, not have people gawking at me for another two hours and then to do it again tomorrow."

Mike stepped closer to her, "Are you really about to throw a tantrum like a child?" He whispered harshly.

"I am not a child."

"Stop acting like one."

She glared, "Stop treating me like one."

"As your manager, I'm only doing what's best for your career, bogging you down with minuscule details is not what's best."

"And as my employee when I say give me the full story, you do exactly that."

Michonne turned on her heel and continued down the pathway towards the Mayor's home not bothering to look behind her to see if Mike was following. Turning up her mouth into a fake smile, unfamiliar faces greeted Michonne as she walked up the steps and finally through the house's door. The aroma of food hit her nostrils and made her stomach rumble. She smiled brightly as more and more people faced the guest of honor.

"My god, it is a delight to have you back, Michonne."

Michonne turned to an older petite woman, her light auburn hair swept her shoulders as she stepped towards Michonne. Michonne smile grew wider as if she recognized the woman when in reality that was far from the truth.

"Hi!" She hugged the woman and they gave each other air kisses.

"You probably don't remember me."

 _No, no I don't._ Michonne laughed, "Of course I do. Mrs.—"

"Mrs. Monroe. Deanna Monroe. I taught you in fourth grade and then in seventh."

Michonne enthusiastically nodded her head giving off the appearance that she knew Deanna.

"You have grown even more beautiful, you're single?" Michonne held up her hand to show Deanna her engagement ring but quickly remembered that she left her engagement ring in another purse. "I want to introduce you to my son, Spencer, he's in his late twenties, but I assure you he's very—."

Michonne put her hand up, "Mrs. Monroe, thank you, but I'm not single," she said.

"Oh well, my apologies for assuming." Deanna smiled, but her eyes did not match.

"No, it's fine."

A hand graced Michonne's shoulder making her head turn in its direction. The hand belonged to a handsome man with a meticulously neat goatee, the chandelier directly above him in the foyer made his brown bald head shiny.

"Welcome to my home," he placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head.

"You're the mayor?"

"Mayor Gabriel Strokes. Thank you for accepting my last-second invitation." He took Michonne's hand and held it gently with both of his soft hands. "What you're doing for our town is truly a blessing."

Michonne eyed his attire, he wasn't wearing a suit and tie, but instead black pants, black shirt, and a clerical collar.

"You're a politician and a priest? Isn't that a bit of a contradiction?"

Gabriel smiled, he had a nice easy smile and a glint in his eye. "I don't think so. I like to think I'm breaking new ground by being not only the first black Mayor in King County but a truly honest politician."

"Forgive me, but I don't believe there is such a thing. Everyone has a price."

Still smiling, Gabriel led Michonne through the crowd, "Well I don't."

"You grew up here, right?"

"Yes, born and raise. I knew your father and mother, your father help my dad build the church a few blocks from here and your mother use to work at Mellie's diner."

Michonne nodded, remembering how often she would come home from school to an empty house, making dinner for herself and tucking herself into bed because her parents were both working two jobs to make ends meet.

"So you know how corrupt this town is. You really think you can be an honest politician in a town like this?"

Gabriel met Michonne's eyes, his forehead furrowed as if he was in deep thought. "The town has changed since you were a little girl. And I would like to think I'm proof of that change."

"Right. Because Obama being elected for President meant racism was over," Michonne scoffed. "These people," Michonne pointed around the room at the different party attendees, some staring at her and whispering in hush tones, others in their own little circle. "Are probably patting themselves on the back at how progressive they are, they did one good thing which in their mind is enough. How long will your 'honest politician' shtick hold when they start making demands on you when your idea of what's best for this town isn't their idea?"

Michonne watched the mayor's constant smile fall and she cursed herself. She was here to prove tabloids wrong and not even ten minutes in this town, she probably made an enemy. She opened her mouth to apologize when a hand touched the small of her back. She could smell Mike's signature cologne before she heard him apologize for her.

Gabriel smiled again and waved Mike off, "Michonne is not only beautiful but quite intelligent, no need to apologize she's done nothing wrong."

"She's very opinionated," Mike laughed. "Even more so with this whole black lives matter stuff and needing to be 'woke' or else face the wrath of a bunch of nobodies sitting behind their computer." He shook his head, Michonne bit her lip to keep quiet and tried to make eye contact with Mike, but he avoided her gaze.

Gabriel nodded and rested his hand on Michonne's shoulder, "Michonne, I would love to talk more politics with you, but you're probably starving."

Michonne smiled brightly, but inside, her annoyance grew. Gabriel continued to lead them towards a dining room. Lined up around it were 3 men and a woman dressed in police uniforms.

She stopped.

Michonne's veins ran cold and she thought her throat was tightening. _I have to get out of here._ She turned only to be stopped by Mike's hand clutching her arm.

"Where are you going?" He whispered. Michonne's eyes cut to him, she found herself having difficulty breathing and suddenly her clothing irritated her.

"I need to go outside."

Mike's eyes widen, "People are watching you act a fool. Stop with the antics."

Michonne yanked her arm from Mike for the second time that night and put her hand on her chest, checking to see if her heart was okay. Not giving Mike a second glance, she whispered her apologies and headed for the door. Walking quickly, bumping into people and not giving a damn because now her head was swimming.

"Michonne! Oh my God, Michonne, it's me, Maggie! You use to babysit me, Michonne!"

Michonne turned her head to the unfamiliar voice and at the same time, walked into something or someone hard. The force almost made her fall, but a hand grabbed her, steadying her to the ground.

"Michonne?" Now, she definitely couldn't breathe. Her eyes darted to the opened door and she moved towards it, she was practically running to it.

Cool air hit her face first, Michonne ran quickly down the porch stairs and to an area by the side of the house where luckily no one occupied. And as soon as Michonne realized that she finally had privacy, she collapsed to her knees and took deep breaths in and out.

 _Why did that happen?_ She touched her neck and felt the rashes forming, she knew she was going to look like she ran through a field of poison ivy butt naked, tomorrow. Her heart beat slowed down steadily and she swallowed her spit. She thought back to what made her have such a reaction and then her brain recalled the police officers lined up around the dining table.

 _I can't do this._

Tears streamed down her face as painful memories flooded back to her. Memories she thought she locked away a long time ago. _I'm going to make the studio reconsider, I don't even care if I end up losing this dumbass role. I can't be here._

"Michonne?"

That same voice from before, a man's voice with a heavy Southern accent. Michonne rolled her eyes and wiped the tears from her face.

"I'm fine," she said to the man behind her. She could now feel his presence and she sensed that he was kneeling because she felt his breath on the back of her neck. "I had an allergic reaction to someone's cheap perfume."

The man didn't reply, but he didn't move to leave either. Michonne sat up on her knees and wiped her face some more. And then a handkerchief appeared to her side. She observed that the hand that was holding it was white, his fingers long and nails cut short and clean. "Here," he said.

Michonne took it from him, the material was soft between her fingertips, "Thank you." She held it up to her face and even in the dim lighting from the street lamps, she noticed the intricate color pattern on the corner of the kerchief. Her eyes widen and she swiftly turned around to see the person behind her.

"My mom made this," she said. The man behind her was dressed in a police uniform, but Michonne oddly didn't feel panicked. Part of his face was hidden due to the Sheriff's hat on his head, but she could see his chiseled jawline and his full bottom lip.

"I know." He reached up and removed the hat. Michonne's mouth dropped, the man before her no longer had acne, his hair was no longer a curly fro, but instead cut so short she couldn't tell if he still had curls, and he grew into his nose. But his eyes, his blue eyes that she used to love staring into, remained the same.

"Rick…"

"Welcome home, Michonne."

It was a Friday when Rick's quiet world was interrupted. He was eating breakfast when he heard a pounding on the door. He got up to answer it only to be propelled backwards by Shane who literally came barreling into the house with no preamble.

"Did you hear the news?" his friend asked excitedly.

Rick had barely woken up. He closed the door behind Shane. "No," he answered truthfully.

"Your girlfriend's comin' to town."

Before Rick could even make heads or tails of what Shane was telling him, his friend was pushing a printed out news article into his hands. _Michonne Teale: Cast as Storm; Ready to Stir Things Up in King County_. The title of the article jumped out at him.

'Michonne's coming back to King County?'

He hurriedly scanned through the article and saw that she would, indeed, be coming back to town. She was coming to King's County to film her next movie. 'So it wasn't a rumor that she was going to be playing Storm after all,' he thought – his mind going in one hundred different directions.

"What's wrong?" Shane asked, looking at Rick with genial amusement. "You excited? Maybe you two can start things up again."

Rick ignored Shane's teasing. He was still stuck on the news. Michonne was coming back to town. _His_ Michonne. Or...the model Michonne. He wasn't sure what to expect. Watching her growing up on television screens and magazine spreads, she seemed so different from the girl he used to know. But then again maybe he never really knew her...He definitely never expected her to run off without so much as a goodbye.

"How long's she gonna be here?" Rick asked, his eyes unable to scan the article fast enough to catch dates or any other information he wanted.

"Don't know," Shane replied, still smirking teasingly at Rick. "But she's gonna be shacking up right here in town. Stayin' at the Holiday Inn right up the street." Shane perched himself on the arm of Rick's living room couch. "That's part of why I woke you up. This little visit o' hers is gonna have us on some new hours. Apparently, her people reached out to the Department Head and they want us to help with security detail. We gotta go get briefed on her personal schedule and whatnot. So come on!"

Still reeling from this unexpected news, Rick looked down at his white t-shirt with one or two syrup stains on it. He hadn't even gotten ready yet. "Alright," he said. "Let me just...get my uniform on."

"Alright," Shane said, settling in to wait. "But Rick?"

Rick stopped on his way to the stairs and looked back. "Yeah?"

He was met with a come-out-with-it stare from Shane. "You got anything you wanna tell me before she gets here?"

"Like what?" Rick asked, genuinely confused.

Shane sighed. "Come on, Rick," Shane pushed. "You ain't ready to 'fess up yet? About your little ' _relationship_ ' with Michonne? It'll be less embarrassing if you just tell me now."

Realizing what Shane was getting at, Rick rolled his eyes. Shane's arrogant demeanor fueled Rick's stubborn will to the point that he wouldn't have confessed in that moment even if God himself threatened to strike him down dead if he continued his lie. "I have nothin' to be embarrassed about," Rick postured. "My ex is comin' to town."

Rick rode on a wave of false confidence for a day or two, but when Michonne's arrival date came around, Rick became more and more ill at ease.

He was excited to see an old friend, but he was also nervous and wary. He didn't know what he was going to get. Not all of the stories he heard about Michonne were good ones, but he figured that was all tabloid fodder. As her arrival approached, he kept telling himself that she was probably gracious and professional. They would meet only briefly and greet each other as old friends. He didn't delude himself into thinking they would be as close as they used to be. She was a big star now and he was...well...nobody.

And now there was the whole added pressure of his lie. Shane had been right. He should've confessed when he had the chance.

Rick's leg bounced up and down with nervous energy underneath his desk and a knock at the door almost caused his heart to stop.

"Come in!" he called.

Shane came through the door with the same smirk on his face that he had been wearing for days. The smirk of knowing his best friend was getting closer and closer to having egg on his face. Rick wanted to knock the smirk off of his face.

"Big day today," Shane said. "She'll be arriving at the airport with her own personal security detail, then when she gets here, the grunts will escort her through town and to her hotel. Then we got that party to go to-"

"I know!" Rick cut in, his voice coming in short and with an edge. He wasn't really in the mood to apologize for it though. His entire body was on edge. "I'm the one who assigned the tasks."

Shane held up his hands, but Rick's mood didn't cause the smirk to fall off of his friend's face. In fact, it only grew bigger. "Okay," he said, holding his hands up in faux surrender. "Calm down. I'm just excited for you, man. Maybe that spark will...reignite. Whatchu think?"

Rick shot Shane a glare. There were times when Rick enjoyed Shane's relentless teasing. Now was not one of those times.

"Okay," Shane said again – genuinely this time. "I'll lay off." He propped himself against the closed door, making himself comfortable in Rick's office.

Rick was grateful. "...I'll be glad when this is all over," he said.

"Why?" Shane asked. "I think it's pretty exciting. King County hasn't been this alive since...Hell, King County ain't never _been_ a lively city. This town is dead as hell. Glad something's happening to liven it up."

Unable to argue with that, Rick shrugged. "It's all just for publicity," he griped, his nerves causing him to be grumpy. "She doesn't care about this town." A tinge of sadness that Rick thought he no longer harbored hit him. Her sudden departure caused him to feel betrayed when they were teens. It seemed that feeling didn't easily go away.

Noticing his somber mood, Shane continued to reign in his antics. "I'm sorry, man," he said, not quite sure what he was apologizing for. Even though he didn't believe for a second that Rick used to date Michonne, he granted that they must have known each other somewhat. King County wasn't a big town, after all. "I don't know all of what happened between you two, but just think of it this way...at least since you'll be seeing her again, you have a chance to clear the air. You know?"

Rick nodded. But he didn't plan on bringing up the topic of why she left whenever they greeted each other again. He didn't need to hear her say, 'I was tired of King County and everyone who lived there. Including you.'

When she entered King County, Rick didn't see her. He made it a point not to. He wasn't ready yet. But there was no avoiding her at the mayor's party.

She looked like summer.

Rick felt silly to think such a thing – never before had he found himself thinking like a bad romance novel – but he couldn't help it. He was immediately jolted back to the first real memory he had of her.

They had both been about six years old and Rick's father had taken him to the playground. Michonne was there in a bright, pink dress. He wasn't sure what it had been about the vibrant color of her dress, but it had caught his attention and held it. He was drawn to it like a moth to flame and before he knew it, he had boldly begun to make his way over – deciding right then and there that this little girl with the pretty hair and cute dress was going to be his first friend. In his bravado, though, he hadn't realized Michonne had been staring in wonder at a yellow butterfly perched on the ground. Not until it was crushed beneath his feet. He wasn't even able to tell his new friend his name before he found himself knocked to his butt on the ground and they were both crying – Michonne because of the death of the butterfly and Rick because of his bruised bottom.

Rick smiled as he remembered that moment. He had spent their whole first school year giving her anything she wanted so that she would forgive him.

His eyes followed her as she made her way through the crowd.

She was even more beautiful in person than she was on television or in magazines. He had been right when he considered the possibility that she wouldn't be the same girl he used to know. She was no longer a girl. She was a woman.

Her hips swayed with each graceful step she took. Her long legs appeared even longer in the heels she wore and her toned muscles added to the air of confidence she already sent off in waves.

Even though the mayor himself was the host, it wasn't until now that Rick felt as if he was in the presence of someone special.

Her long, dreaded hair swept her back as she looked between the people who sought her attention.

'She may not even remember me,' Rick realized, really feeling the length of time and change distance them as he stood in the same vicinity as her.

He tried to pay attention to his fellow officers' chatter as they talked around him, but his eyes never strayed from Michonne for more than a second.

She talked to Deanna Monroe and then Mayor Stokes. And then her eyes trailed over to where he stood...

Rick's heart rate doubled...but her eyes barely reached him before she hastily looked away again.

At first Rick was confused; he wondered if she recognized him but didn't want to see him. But as he continued to watch her, he noticed her whole demeanor change. Her confidence turned to nervousness and it looked as if she was having difficulty breathing.

Growing concerned, Rick stepped away from his group of peers. "Excuse me," he muttered.

He stopped short when an African American man he recognized grabbed Michonne by her arm. This man was in the background of many of Michonne's televised events and there was barely an article that mentioned Michonne without mentioning her boyfriend/manager as well. Rick frowned as he watched them; Mike was obviously scolding her. And immediately, that protective first grader who never wanted Michonne to see anything akin to a crushed butterfly again resurrected inside of Rick. He started forward again, pushing his way through the crowd.

Michonne broke away from Mike just as he drew near and she bumped right into him.

"Michonne?" Rick said as he steadied her.

She didn't even seem to hear him. She stepped around him and rushed to the front door.

Even more concerned after seeing the distressed look on her face, Rick followed after her. It didn't take him long to find her outside crying. Rick didn't hesitate to go to her, deeply affected by her tears. "Michonne?" He gently called her name, not wanting to startle her.

"I'm fine," she answered without turning around. Her voice was muffled and he could barely understand her. She made some excuse about perfume and her defensiveness only made him want to comfort her more. He wanted to know why she was crying and fix whatever was causing the tears.

"Here," he said, unable to do anything more than offer her the handkerchief in his pocket. He had only brought the handkerchief at the last minute; he definitely hadn't planned on using it in this way. He knew she would recognize it.

And just as he expected, she swiftly turned around to face him.

"...My mom made this."

"I know." He took the hat off of his head so that she could better see his face. When her eyes widened with recognition, he felt a small swell of relief that she hadn't forgotten him.

"Rick..."

"Welcome home, Michonne."

A slow smile covered Rick's face. Above everything, he was happy to see his friend again. He slowly helped her to feet. He wanted to help to wipe her tears away, but he felt that would be overstepping a boundary.

He opened his mouth to re-introduce himself. To find out why she was crying and how she had been since she'd been gone. But before he could utter any words, a large body stepped between him and Michonne.

"I'm gonna need you to step back sir."

"It's okay, Tyreese," Michonne said, laying a hand on the large man's arm. Rick assumed he was her bodyguard.

He pulled his badge from his pocket. "Don't worry," he said, showing the badge to Tyreese and offering his hand for a handshake. "I'm Rick Grimes, sheriff of King County." He was conscious of Michonne's eyes on him as he introduced himself. "I and the rest of the King County police department will be working alongside you and everyone else to make sure Miss Teale's stay here is as safe and comfortable as possible." He nodded at Michonne to reaffirm his statement to her personally.

"If you ever need assistance in getting around King County-" he started.

"I think I know my way around King County," Michonne cut in.

"I don't know," Rick said. "Seeing as it's been over a decade since you were last here..." Rick stoppered his mouth. He didn't know where that came from. "A lot of things have changed," he finished simply.

Michonne looked down at the handkerchief in her hand before she held it out to him again. Rick hesitated, wondering if he should take it back. He didn't consider long. He reached out and took it, his fingers brushing hers.

"Not everything..." Michonne said.

She made her way past him. Rick had to stop himself from halting her. He felt like they had so much to discuss. The brief meeting he imagined wasn't enough. Which is why Rick was relieved to see Michonne stop before she rounded the corner and turn over her shoulder.

"I'll see you around, Rick."

"Yeah," Rick said. "See you around."


	4. Chapter 4

\- An update to the collaboration fic between Misty Knight (aka rickstiddynipples) and I. -

Chapter 4:

"It has to be exciting to be back in your hometown?"

Michonne smiled brightly towards the woman sitting across from her, Judy Long, the voice of King County. She was the second most famous person from King County, the first being Michonne. Her perfectly coifed red hair hung at her shoulders brushing against the top of her blue form-fitting dress. Her posture impeccable, same with her dazzling white veneers that were on display as Judy forced her Botox ladled face into a grin.

"Very exciting," Michonne replied. She herself wore an orange vintage tweed Chanel blazer with matching skirt. "Everyone here has been very kind and welcoming."

Too welcoming, over enthusiastic smiling faces were all she saw that morning with their cheery greetings and need to invade her personal space. Maybe she was too use to the LA and NY scene, especially New York where no one there gave a damn if you were a celebrity or not, but the sweet friendliness of the people of King County was _too_ sweet.

Or maybe she was just being a stuck up brat. That's what Mike proclaimed after they arrived at the hotel from the mayor's dinner, last night.

"The film _Storm_ which is currently in production is already doing wonders for the town. Projection says tourism will be up and folks here who have been out of a job are being hired to work on the film. What are your thoughts on that news?"

"I heard how our town fell on hard times, the economy hasn't picked up quite yet here." Michonne paused, clasping her hands together. "So, it's exhilarating to hear that positive piece of news, my goal by asking the studios to film part of the movie here was to provide job opportunities for those out on their luck."

"It's not permanent."

Michonne shook her head, "No, but while I'm here I'm hoping to one of my business ventures here."

"Sounds great," Judy Long grinned, she shuffled paper on her lap, her long red nails making clicking noises. "But," she stared into Michonne's eyes, her gaze fixed, "What kept you away from King County. Your beloved hometown, yet you haven't been back in fifteen years."

Michonne nodded slowly, changing her whimsical expression to a thoughtful one, pretending that Judy Long asked such a hard-hitting question. "15 years wow," she laughed softly. "Time flies when you're focusing so heavily on making your dreams come true." A small smile etched on Michonne's face. "Unfortunately, I have no family that lives here anymore, so there was really nothing to tie me here but memories. But… you all proved me wrong. You all are my extended family and I'm so glad to be home."

Michonne gaze went past Judy and fell on to Mike giving her a thumbs up. He then whispered in the ear of a producer.

"That's all the time we have today," Judy announced to the camera behind Michonne, her eyes swept to Michonne, still smiling, now almost painfully. "Michonne it was a pleasure."

Michonne took her hand and shook it firmly, "A pleasure indeed."

The producer Mike spoke to, came forward, "And three, two, one. That's a wrap!"

Michonne sighed, standing up she removed her mike pack and handed it to one of the errand boys. When she turned, Judy stood right in her face, up close her smile was unnerving.

"We have to have lunch or dinner sometimes," she said. Without asking, Judy locked arms with Michonne as they walked towards the catering table inside the hotel room.

"Yes," Michonne looked around for Mike or Glenn, even Tyreese. None of the men were in her visual sight. At the table, Judy grabbed a plate and piled several tiny sandwiches, devil eggs, watermelon and cookies on her plate. Bewildered, Michonne watched as she practically inhaled her food while she talked.

"It is just so refreshing to not be the only famous person here?"

Michonne grinned and nodded.

Judy nudged her in the arm, "I loved the pageant answer you gave, the people here will eat it up," she said, winking.

Michonne stepped backward until she was at arm's length, "I'm on a tight schedule, I'll tell my assistant to set up a lunch meeting, sometime." She was lying if anything, Michonne would make sure Glenn knew to do the opposite.

Judy nodded, reaching for more food to plop on her plate.

Michonne turned to search for the door leading out of the room when Tyreese appeared at her side. She gave him a light slap on the arm, "Where were you?"

"I'm here now."

Tyreese, a former defensive tackle of the New York Jets hadn't lost his size, still a massive behemoth ready to mow down any potential threats to Michonne. He guided her out of the room and into the hallway. If you judged him based on appearance then he was one to stand clear of, but Tyreese was a sweet man, full of kindness and empathy. Being Michonne's personal bodyguard, he's seen it all, more than anyone else close to her and lucky for Michonne, Tyreese was a loyal friend.

"Are we leaving," Michonne asked.

"Heading to the parade area right now."

With a heavy sigh, Michonne crossed her arms, "I was hoping that dumb thing would be canceled."

"No chance with Mike running the show," he smiled and gave her a side hug as they headed inside the elevators.

…

"You'll sit here, wave periodically throughout the parade and throw out candy." Michonne's assistant Glenn, handing Michonne a pumpkin-shaped container full of candy, it was obviously meant for Halloween, but someone painted the container black and wrote _storm_ where the eyes and mouth use to be.

Michonne tried to protest one last time the extravagance of having a parade to celebrate her return to King County, but Mike wouldn't hear of it, actually, he wouldn't stand still long enough to hear her out. Mike was everywhere, but by her side which made Michonne's irritation rise.

"Let's get you seated," Glenn said, holding out his hand. She took it giving him a smile that he returned with ease. Michonne was glad to see some of Glenn's anxiety wear off, maybe it was because she hadn't really needed him for much the past day and a half or it could be Maggie, the girl that approached her last night, that she later saw having an animated conversation with him.

In most parades, there would be dozens of floats lined up in the streets, but today there was only one. Magenta frill with purple sheeting, silver ornaments all over the place and a matching throne in the middle of the float. Michonne shook her head, cringing at the tackiness of the event. She sat the container of candy on the floor of the float and hiked up her white one-shoulder dress above her ankles to keep from falling.

"Glenn, how long will this take?" Cars were lining up in front of and in the back of the float, some of them were all black sedans, the kind you'd see surrounded by the POTUS, others had huge company labels slapped on them, and then police vehicles and motorcycles. She averted her eyes from the King County officers that were lining up, focusing her energy on breathing correctly.

 _We're not doing this again, Michonne. Calm down_.

"Parade will be short, maybe 15 minutes. This town isn't that big—."

"Could you bring me some bottled water?" She asked, cutting Glenn off. "Please?" She kept her eyes to the ground.

"Yeah, I'll be back."

Michonne nodded and started towards her throne. She took one step and her right heel caught in her gown, making her lose balance. Michonne tried to catch her footing, her arms stretched forward grasping for the chair. If she had more time, she would have blurted 'this is going to hurt,' but instead she screeched as she felt her body fall backward off the float. She closed her eyes bracing herself for the pain, but she fell against someone.

Michonne wiggled her feet, noticing that the ground was not underneath them, that whoever she fell against was actually cradling her in their arms. She turned her head ever so slightly, peeking at the person that rescued her. Heat rushed to her cheeks, Michonne groaned and covered her eyes with her hand.

"Hi," she muttered.

"If you wanted to see me that badly, there are less dangerous ways to do so." A cheeky grin stretched across Rick Grimes's face.

"Put me down." Michonne removed her hands as Rick gently helped her to her feet. She caught the eyes of several people who stopped and watched her embarrassing fall and then her own eyes swept to the bright blues ones full of concern.

"You okay?" He reached for her, but she took a step back, nodding quickly.

"Fine, this dress is too long."

"Let me help." Rick held out his hand again. Michonne looked intently at his hand and then back to his face. In uniform sans his hat, sweat gleamed on his forehead, his light colored eyebrows furrowed awaiting a response from her.

"Wait a sec," he said. Rick hopped on the float, turning around and holding out his hand again.

Michonne paused and with a roll of her eyes, she took his hand as he pulled her up on the float beside him.

"Thank you," she said, the two words tumbled out of her mouth with a quickness that they sounded foreign.

Rick leaned closer to her, "What did you say?"

"I said thank you." He still held her hand, Michonne was surprised by the softness of his hand and found herself enjoying the warmth of his touch. But, she came to her senses, wiggling her hand free.

Rick smiled sheepishly, "You need help getting to your seat."

"No, I think I got it." Michonne lifted her dress enough where the bottom was not touching the ground.

"Can you believe this? A parade for you," Rick chuckled, he looked around him and she did too. People were scurrying about getting into position or finishing last minute tasks before the parade started. "If we were kids again and someone said this would happen, I'd be like, no way, not my Mich."

"And why not?" She knew she was scowling before her brain could order her to stop.

Rick's eyes widen. "That came out wrong! What I meant… Michonne I… I wasn't expecting you to become this huge star." Michonne turned her back to him and headed towards her seat. Rick scrambled behind her, "Not that that's a bad thing… I just mean that I had no idea you were going to leave and—."

"I get it," she said. Dismissing his explanation with a single wave of her hand, she sat down and pointed behind him, "Could you hand me that bucket."

 _Reign back your bitchiness, missy_.

Rick picked up the black pumpkin filled with candy and gave it to Michonne. She sat back in her seat and looked everywhere, but at him. Rick swallowed and wet his lips, "Can I ask you about last night?"

Michonne eyes connected with his, she shook her head, "Perfume reaction."

"Oh, right. Yeah, you said that," he said. Michonne eyed his unconvinced expression and then awkward silence followed. As kids, they use to talk for hours, never running out of topics to discuss but, that was a million years ago.

"Michonne?" Rick moved a step closer to her and placed his hands on his hips, putting his thumbs through the hoops of his belt buckle.

"Yes." His blue eyes drew her in just like they did last night.

"We should meet and have coffee when things have calmed down a bit." Her eyes swept away from him to the left, she searched for Glenn who should have been back by now with her water. And then Tyreese who should be by her side at this very moment. And then Mike, who she was hoping wasn't anywhere near the float.

"My phone's not on me," she said, truthfully.

Rick reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a notebook pad and a pen that was clipped onto his uniform shirt. Michonne's palms sweated, her internal temperature rose, and then her stomach flutter. She frowned as he scribbled on the paper, was she really becoming nervous around him. Rick Grimes? The dorky kid, she punched in the face for crushing her butterfly and since that time he was utterly devoted to her. No, it wasn't nerves as she remembered that she hadn't eaten since breakfast, almost six hours ago. Rick ripped the paper from its pad, he put the notebook and pen into his pants pocket and folded the paper.

"My number and home address. Call me." He held the paper out and Michonne took it with haste, clutching it in her left hand. "Please," Rick continued. She heard the plea in his voice which awaken her guilt. After all these years, the least she could do was have a cup of coffee with him.

Michonne smiled, "I will, Richie."

"Richie?" Rick groaned which contrasted with his own smile. "Ah man, I do not miss that nickname."

"What! I was the only one who called you that, though, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt you." Michonne's mouth dropped slightly. "Your feelings, I mean," Rick corrected.

"You wouldn't have," she said quietly.

A bang on the float caught both their attentions, Rick moved to the side giving Michonne a view of a dark haired man dressed in the same police uniform as Rick. He had a smirk planted on his face and he looked at both of them as if he caught Rick and Michonne making out.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, silly me for not checking here first."

Michonne looked at the man and looked at Rick who seemed annoyed. Rick met her eyes and pointed to the man, "Michonne this is my partner, Shane Walsh. Shane this is Michonne."

Shane waved and Michonne hesitantly smiled back. "I have heard so much about _you,_ " Shane said, leaning his elbows on the float. Michonne watched Rick shift on his feet, he seemed uncomfortable and tight. "Such as you were Rick's best friend before I came into the picture."

Michonne nodded, "Yeah, that's right."

"But, it's a good thing ya'll never lost contact, that's a sign of true friendship even though ya'll didn't work out."

Michonne's forehead scrunched, she opened her mouth to ask Shane to clarify when Rick spoke instead.

"We gotta get going," he said, practically running off the float and then pushing Shane away. "Call me," he yelled while he and Shane walked further away. In the meantime, Glenn came into her view with several bottles in his hand.

"I'm really sorry, I got lost trying to find water," he said. Handing one bottle to her, "but Maggie helped me out."

Michonne snorted, "She helped you huh?" Michonne saw that Glenn's usually impeccable hair was now ruffled and his clothing disheveled. He nodded enthusiastically, placing the rest of the bottles on the ground. "Glenn?"

"Yeah."

"Your fly's undone," she remarked, keeping a laugh from escaping. Glenn's face went beet red as he walked to the corner of the float that gave him the most privacy.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Johnny Cash's "Solitary Man" started suddenly and the gentle strums of the guitar sounded throughout Rick's empty bedroom. His hand came down on the power button of his alarm radio quickly. He was up and ready to start the day.

He showered and brushed his hair and his teeth, spending extra time to make sure he was as clean shaven as he could be.

He admired his police uniform that was hanging from the door before he took it down; it was starched and pristine – fresh from the drycleaners'.

"Don't know that I will~ But until I can find me~" He sang as he donned his uniform. And before leaving his house he dabbed on a bit of cologne – a gift Shane had gotten him that he had just let sit undisturbed in his medicine cabinet until now.

His cell phone rang and – assuming it was work since he was five minutes late – he ended the call before picking up and without looking at the screen properly.

"Okay," he said, looking in the mirror one last time before he was satisfied. Seeing that he looked as put-together as he possibly could, he left his house – ready to get to work and ready to see Michonne, whom he couldn't stop thinking about since the night before.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The town was unusually quiet as Rick made his way from his home to the police station. When he stepped inside the precinct, he commented on it. "Town is unusually quiet today."

Through the usual greetings, Shane's voice piped up. "You surprised?" he asked. "It's 'cause everyone's gone to your girlfriend's little parade."

Rick smirked. Shane's way of taunting him by calling Michonne his girlfriend didn't bother him so much.

"Shane...leave him alone."

Lori stepped away from the filing cabinet near the wall; Rick hadn't noticed her there. She walked forward to greet Rick by giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. The scent of perfume she wore was pleasant; Rick found himself trying to place the scent. "Hey, Rick," she said. "How are you? I was just dropping off lunch for this big buffoon." She gestured toward Shane.

"Doing fine," Rick said, a little surprised to see her but not put off. "How are you?" he returned.

"I've been better," Lori quipped. "Judith kept me up all night."

"She stayed up all night _again_?!" Rick asked.

"Yes! I don't know what happened. She was sleeping on our schedule for a full three months. I don't know what threw it off! Probably Shane and his need to excite her every time he gets back home from work." She threw an accusatory glare over her shoulder.

"Hey!" Shane said, putting his hands up. "I barely get any time with my daughter as it is. Can you blame me for not wanting her to be asleep when I get in?"

"Well, _maybe_ if you wouldn't work such long hours..."

"Hey, talk to him," Shane said, directing Lori's ire to Rick.

"Don't bring me into this," Rick said quickly.

Lori smiled. "What is it you do to get her to fall asleep?" Lori asked. "I notice that when you keep her, every time I come over to pick her up she's just knocked out."

"I don't do anything much. Just sing to her."

Lori smiled, her eyes sparkling with surprise. "Sing?! I didn't know you sing!" She swatted Rick with the back of her hand, causing a bashful blush to spring across Rick's face.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said. "I said I sing; I didn't say I sing _well_."

"Well, I wanna hear it sometime..." Lori urged gently.

Rick chuckled in response. "The day you hear my singing will be the day hell freezes over."

Lori laughed in response, an easy natural laugh that was always on the edge of her throat when she was in the presence of her two favorite guys. "Okay," she said. "Well, can you come over tonight and work some of your magic? I need her to fall asleep and _stay_ asleep tonight. For my sake."

"Uhh...I don't know..." Rick said, thinking of his workload. He glanced at Shane, who shrugged. Shane was always down for his buddy coming over.

"Come on," Lori urged. "I'll make dinner. Better than you eating alone again tonight, isn't it?"

"Ouch," Rick said jokingly even though a serious twinge of hurt sparked across his chest. He knew Lori didn't say it to be mean-spirited, but it cut all the same.

Shane raised his hands in the air. "See. You think I'm the rude one," he teased.

Lori scoffed. "You know I didn't mean it like that," she opined.

"Sure, sweetheart," Shane said. "But maybe you're wrong. Maybe Rick's got a date tonight. A blast from the past. Huh, Rick?" Rick raised his eyebrows suggestively and Rick ignored him.

"I'll think about stopping by," he said to Lori. He then turned his attention to work. "Are Scott and Doug down at the parade like they're supposed to be?" he asked Shane.

"Yeah, him and a few others..." Shane studied Rick with an annoying, knowing look on his face. Rick felt like he could read his thoughts...which apparently he could as evidenced by his next question. "Why? You wanna go down and get a glimpse of your woman?"

Again, Rick ignored his friend. "I think we _could_ afford more detail down there," he said, hopefully fighting and losing against suppressing the pink tinge reaching his cheeks. "It's quiet-"

"Surprising for the town of King County," Shane interjected sarcastically.

"All of the excitement is there," Rick continued. "So...me and a few other men will go down there to help out-"

"Great!" Shane said with a grin. He chewed enthusiastically on a piece of gum. "I love parades!"

Not excited about Shane coming and continuing his chiding, Rick bit back his demand that Shane stay at the station. He knew that would only lead to more posturing and ribbing from the other man.

"I can't believe you two," Lori said, drawing Rick and Shane's attention. Disappointment was heavy in her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"What?" Shane asked.

"How you two are going on about this parade..." Lori chastised.

"What about it?" Shane asked.

"A parade? Seriously?" Lori passed a judgmental stare between her husband and his friend. "I mean, come on, it's not like this is a national holiday or anything. She's just a model. I find this whole thing to be excessive and silly," she said, shaking her head dismissively.

Rick didn't feel like the parade was silly. He felt like it was a physical representation of what he had been feeling internally since he heard that Michonne was coming back to King County. Happy and ridiculously celebratory. If Lori thought the parade was silly, he was glad she couldn't see inside his being. He was pretty sure his inner self was doing the macarena, shooting fireworks, and standing on his head.

"She's not _just_ a model," Shane said, walking forward and clapping his hand on Rick's shoulder to form solidarity against his wife. "She's Rick's ex-girlfriend. The one who got away. The love of his life. Who knows? If Rick shows up at the parade, she may take one look at him and fall in love all over again."

Rick turned to stare, unamused, at Shane. He didn't like the way Shane made it sound like that was the most ridiculous thing that ever had the chance of happening. He shrugged Shane off. Of course he didn't really expect that to happen, but Shane's teasing was edging on being disrespectful.

"Okay, but seriously, Lori..." Shane said. He walked forward and put his hands on either side of her waist. "You should come to the parade as well when you get a chance. Stuff like this doesn't happen all the time in King County."

Seemingly swayed by Shane's request, Lori rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. "But I'm going to change first." She looked down at the long, white dress she wore that was cinched at the waist by an inch of belt-like fabric. "Can you wait for me and walk with me there?" she asked Shane.

"What's wrong with what you got on?" Shane asked.

"I just wanna change," Lori challenged, keeping it as simple as that. Shane shook his head at Rick, clearly telegraphing the thought – 'Women'.

"I'll go on ahead," Rick said, secretly glad that they wouldn't immediately be coming with him. He hoped Lori would take a long time picking out a new outfit. "You two can meet me there."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Rick got to the parade, he saw her immediately. She was already aboard the float, a whimsical contraption whose extravagance was simultaneously combated by its falseties and material bravado. Rick frowned with slight disapproval. He wanted to know whose idea it was to put her on this thing. He thought a limo with her seated atop it or waving from the sunroof would be more fitting for someone of Michonne's regality.

His view of Michonne was only of her back, but he could tell she looked beautiful. The skin of her bare shoulder glistened under the sun and he found his eyes traveling down the rest of her before he stopped himself. This was his old friend, now acquaintance and impossible-to-reach celebrity. Not only that, she had a boyfriend who looked like he had a bit of a mean streak.

His eyes swept the area around Michonne, looking for the man he had seen on television and at the party the night before. He wasn't there. Only an Asian man who seemed to be her assistant was there.

Rick shook his head, again chastising himself for his line of thought. No need to entertain thoughts of how beautiful was when he had no intention or chance of dating her.

He focused on the float again, something to preoccupy his mind. It looked hurriedly put together. 'Is that thing even stable?' he thought, walking forward almost involuntarily to test how safe it was to stand on. Michonne would probably hate it if she went crashing through the floor of a faulty float in front of everyone's smart phones and the few news cameras that were out, recording the event.

Rick was glad he was already atop the float, though, when a different offender brought Michonne almost crashing to the floor. Her damn dress.

He caught her before she could hit the floor and he didn't want to put her down. He actually managed to say something charming, even though her eyes meeting his almost caused his brain to stutter to a stop and his other physical faculties to almost shut down. It wasn't until she asked to be put down that he released her.

After some flirting – borne from a confidence that came naturally to him when he was in front of her – and a close fuck-up of the entire situation, he managed to get her number. That kept him satisfied even after his scare with Shane. And even through his friend's renewed pushing as he led him away a few seconds later.

"Your birthday's coming up, isn't it, man?" Shane suddenly asked.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "I had almost forgotten." He didn't place much stock in his birthdays anymore. Not since college. They were just another day to him. Nothing changed except the addition of a few gray hairs and more brittle bones.

"You should have a party!" Shane said. Rick wondered why Shane was bringing this up out of the blue until his friend's next statement. "And you should invite Michonne. I'd love to hear her tell stories about you two – you know, from her perspective."

Rick frowned at Shane, who gave him a teasing smile in return. "Listen," he said. "Don't bother Michonne about this stuff."

"Why?" Shane asked.

"She's moved on; she's got a boyfriend," Rick said. "No use drudging up the past."

" _Or_ ," Shane said. "You don't want me mentioning it because you know you're lying out your ass and you don't want her to discredit you." Shane laughed at his own statement until Lori came alongside them. She was now dressed in fitted blue jeans and a pretty white top. Rick didn't greet her because he was biting back an insult for Shane.

"What's going on?" Lori asked.

"Nothing," Shane said. "Rick's just living in fantasies about Michonne, like usual."

Lori turned to Rick with a small, bemused smile. "Really?"

"No," Rick answered.

"Have you met her yet?" Lori continued.

"Yep."

"He did," Shane interjected. "And it just looked like a fan meeting a celebrity to me. Didn't look like two ex-lovers meeting after years apart."

"Look," Rick said with frustration. "Don't believe me if that's-"

"Shane, leave Rick alone," Lori was saying, overlapping Rick's own retort. Her face held humor. "If Rick wants to fantasize about dating a supermodel, why is it any of your business?"

"You don't believe me either?" Rick asked.

Lori opened her mouth to speak. "Well, I-"

The sudden sound of Rick's phone vibrating cut her off. Irritated at his friends, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at his screen. His irritation vanished and the frown on his face was replaced by a smile. "It's Michonne," he said, just knowing even though the number wasn't yet recognized in his phone. He enjoyed Shane and Lori's surprised expressions for a second before he answered. "Hello?" Then he turned away and walked a few steps away to focus on the conversation.

" _Hey, Rick."_ Her voice sounded smooth and thick over the telephone. Rick liked the sound of it. " _I was just making sure I got the number right. Your handwriting is as bad as it always was."_

Rick chuckled and ignored Shane, who called from behind him: "Put it on speaker."

" _What was that?"_ Michonne asked.

"Nothing," Rick said, walking further away from his nosy friends. "I thought you said you didn't have your phone on you."

" _I didn't,"_ Michonne said. _"It was with my assistant."_

"Oh," Rick said, feeling foolish about implying that she may have told him a fib. "So you got my number right," he said, changing the subject. "Is that all you wanted?"

" _No."_ Rick held his breath, waiting to hear what she said next. " _I was wondering if maybe you could meet me tonight._ " Rick's eyebrows shot up, surprised to hear her ask him to meet.

"Yeah," he said immediately. "Yeah, of course. When and where?"

" _Oh,"_ Michonne suddenly said, distracted by something on her end. _"The parade's starting. I've gotta go."_

" _Hurry and hang up,"_ Rick heard a male voice instructing. _"Who are you even talking to?"_

" _I'll text you when and where,"_ Michonne said hurriedly and quietly, then she was gone. She hung up.

"Wait-" Rick said. Realizing he wasn't going to get her back, he pulled the phone from his ear and sighed.

"What'd she want?" Shane asked.

Rick started past them, toward some subordinates who looked like they needed instruction since they were eating funnel cakes instead of standing on duty like they were supposed to be. "She wants to meet me tonight," Rick said, a strut in his step.

"What?" Shane asked, both shock and excitement in his voice. "For what?!" Rick smirked and didn't respond. Shane's bewilderment was victory enough for him.

"But-" Lori spluttered. "Rick, you agreed to come over and help with Judith tonight."

Rick stopped. 'Oh yeah.' He had forgotten about that. Genuinely sorry towards Lori, he turned toward her. "Can we do a raincheck?" he asked. "I'll come over tomorrow night."

Lori frowned, obviously confused and disappointed. "I guess..." she said.

"I'm sorry," Rick said before continuing on towards the lower ranking officers.

"Rick's never stood up a night with Judith," Lori said to Shane.

"Well, what can you expect?" Shane asked. "Sounds like he's got a date with Michonne. I'd stand up a night with Judith too." Lori sent him a glare. "I'm kidding!" Shane said with a laugh. He wrapped his arm around Lori. "Come on. Let's go enjoy the parade."

Lori went with him, casting one more glance over her shoulder at Rick. She wasn't sure how she felt about him dropping their plans so quickly.

When Rick finished reprimanding the officers, his phone vibrated again. He pulled it out of his pocket in a hurry, expecting to see a text from Michonne. Instead, it was a text from his father.

' _I'm coming back to town tomorrow. Let's do dinner.'_

Rick's good mood dropped. He didn't always get along with his father. They had a strained relationship at the best of times, but Rick also had this annoying feeling like he needed to impress the man. To live up to his expectations. He sighed. He wasn't looking forward to this dinner.

' _How long will you be staying?'_ Rick texted back.

The response came back promptly. _'Permanently.'_


	5. Chapter 5

\- Collaboration fic written by Misty Knight and me. -

Chapter 5:

Rick was in a rush.

Michonne's sudden, unexpected invitation to him and his father's sudden, unexpected message telling him that he was moving back to King County had left Rick reeling – one with overwhelming excitement and the other with a bitter kind of nervousness. So back at the precinct, he had buried himself in work to temporarily take his mind off of his coming meetings. But that had apparently worked a bit too well...He had delved so deeply into his work that he ended up getting off work later than he wanted.

Now it was 7:30 in the evening and he was supposed to be meeting Michonne at eight. At McReary's Hill, which was twenty minutes away.

"Ow!" He ran into the coffee table placed squarely in the middle of the room, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his shin. "Damn it," he groaned. He made his way around the table as he struggled with his tie, putting in the back of his mind to rearrange his living room when he got back.

When he got to the mirror tacked inside the door of his closet, he lifted his chin. He wondered if the tie he had picked out worked with the blue dress shirt he had decided to wear. 'Do I even need a tie?' he continued to ponder. 'Is it too much? This isn't some business meeting. Yeah, the tie's too much...' He snatched it off and threw it aside. 'Much better,' he thought, admiring the simplicity of his shirt and jeans. He looked put-together but not stuffily so. Very casual.

Meeting his own eyes in the mirror brought some clarity back to him when he saw how frenzied he looked. "Calm down," he murmured to himself, self-hynoptizing. "What are you expecting? She's got a boyfriend, she's out of your league...Stop dreaming..." He muttered these things to himself, but his wretched brain whispered back at him...'But what could she possibly want, calling you out tonight? And to your favorite childhood place?' He shook his head and took some calming breaths.

"Get ahold of yourself, Rick Grimes," he tried self-motivating again. "You're the Sheriff of King County; you've never distracted yourself with thoughts of dating before. Don't start now. When it's impossible."

00000000000000000000000000000000

McReary's Hill was a tall almost grotesque-looking mound in the middle of what would – without it – be a flat expanse of rolling green, land. It was located just a few feet off of Jim McReary's farm and Rick and Michonne had long discovered it when they were kids and christened it as their favorite place to get away and just talk.

A tree trunk stuck precariously out at the edge of the hill. Rick made his way over to it to look down at past handiwork. 'R + M = BFF'. Rick chuckled, unable to keep his laugh at bay while he looked down at the childish and cliché scribbling. "Who's idea was that?" he mumbled to himself, remembering very clearly the day they came up here and scratched it in.

"Yours."

Rick turned around quickly at the sound of Michonne's thick, honeyed voice. He almost lost his balance and tumbled off of the hill at her sudden appearance, but Michonne stepped forward to help hold him steady.

Which proved useless...

Michonne's small frame was no match for Rick's body weight so they both went rolling down the hill. "Ahh..." Michonne moaned when they stopped and she found her back pressed into the uneven ground and all of the air being crushed out of her lungs since Rick was atop her.

In the two seconds before he hurriedly pushed himself off of her and apologized profusely, he noticed how large and beautiful her eyes truly were up close. "Sorry," he said, brushing his pants off with his hands after he stood. "Sorry. You startled me."

"I can tell..." Michonne said, following Rick's lead in hoisting herself up off of the ground. She swiped at her clothing and Rick could have kicked himself.

What she wore looked expensive. It was a beautiful, white designer blouse and a maroon A-line skirt. A matching shawl was draped across her shoulders and covered the skin there that the drooping sleeves of the shirt left exposed. Rick winced when he saw a grass stain on the hem of her once spotless top. 'She's gonna regret even asking to see me tonight,' Rick thought to himself, glancing cautiously at the furrow in her brow while she brushed at the stain. With her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she looked as if she wasn't just coming from a relaxing night at home. "Sorry," he said again. "If you give me a dry-cleaning bill, I can pay for it. Or...I can get you a new blouse; just tell me where to order it."

"You can't order it," Michonne said, giving the stain one last useless brush-over and meeting Rick's eyes. "It was given to me personally by the designer."

Rick's stomach dropped. That was worse. "Shit. I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's okay," Michonne said.

Being back in King County felt weird. And being back here in front of her old friend and one of their favorite old hangouts felt even weirder. "You still haven't gotten over that thing you do," Michonne said.

"What thing?" Rick responded.

Michonne opened her lips to speak and then shook her head, deciding against it. "Nothing." But she knew what she had wanted to say. It seemed he still hadn't gotten over treating her like she was special.

Rick began to look around. "I should've brought a jacket," Rick said. "So you could sit down."

Michonne looked down at the green grass that surrounded them. It wasn't really necessary for her to sit down. She didn't expect that what she came out to tell Rick would take much time anyway. But she found herself taking the shawl off of her shoulders and placing it on the ground.

"No-!" Rick said, not wanting her to ruin anymore of her fancy clothing. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Michonne said, not paying him any mind and sitting down on the sprawled-out shawl. "These clothes aren't really my style anyway."

"Really?" Rick asked, curious to know what her style was. In fact, he was curious to know everything about her. Especially why she had called him out here tonight.

"You can sit down with me if you want," Michonne said.

Rick glanced down at the shawl that stretched just a few inches long. If he sat down, they'd be awfully close...

For a moment, he struggled with what he felt comfortable doing. But it was a short moment.

He sat down next to her.

Their arms brushed and when he turned his head, he could smell a sweet vanilla scent that seemed to be coming from her. And he couldn't help but to realize that if she turned her head as well, they'd only be inches apart. He faced ahead, telling himself not to have such thoughts. He hadn't been expecting this, but it seemed more and more that he was thinking of his old friend in ways that he knew he shouldn't.

"You're probably wondering why I called you out here," Michonne said, her voice breaking into his thoughts. The thoughts she was oblivious to.

With his legs stretched out before him, Rick crossed his feet at the ankles. "No, I know," Rick said. Michonne glanced over at him, slightly surprised and curious. "You wanna catch up? For old time's sake?" Rick's lips lifted on one side to show her that he was teasing.

His quarter smile became a full one when he saw Michonne respond to his joke with a softened expression. For the first time, he felt like they were in sixth grade again.

"Sure," Michonne surprised him by saying. "Go ahead and tell me what you've been up to."

Rick's smile fell off of his face. He hadn't been expecting that. But now, faced with the question, he realized he had nothing to tell her. He spent his days working as a cop in a small town where the most exciting disturbance that happened was someone's pig getting loose and running through City Hall. Then he would go home and eat dinner alone if Shane and Lori didn't invite him over. "Uhh..." Rick said, chuckling nervously. "You first."

Michonne smiled. "I just got back from a fan signing event I didn't even know I was having. And this was immediately after I had spent the day being carted around a parade like a fake Santa. So I don't really feel like talking about me right now."

"You weren't a big fan of the parade I take it?" Rick asked.

Michonne shrugged. "It wasn't really the parade," Michonne said. "I just wish Mike would tell me about these things before I schedule them." Michonne looked at Rick. "Mike's my manager," she clarified.

'And boyfriend,' Rick thought. But neither felt the need to speak it aloud. Rick nodded. "I know. I've been...keeping up with you- with your career."

"Really?" Michonne asked, that slightly surprised lilt back in her voice.

"Yeah..." Rick said. "And I gotta say...you were the best-looking fake Santa I've ever seen."

A silence followed Rick's words. He saw Michonne's smirk and he wondered why he even said that.

"Thank you," Michonne responded simply. "I was wondering how I held up among the Santa crowd."

Rick stopped wallowing in his own self-made embarrassment long enough to chuckle. Leaning back on his hand, Rick pretended to feel more confident than he actually was. "But...besides the craziness of your schedule...and life, these days I'm sure...you-? You're happy with where you are right now?"

"Yeah!" Michonne answered immediately and almost too cheerily. "I mean...there are things that could be better, but...everyone has things. No one's life is perfect. Right?" She glanced over at Rick and he was taken aback by the innocence and curiosity in her eyes. As if she was expecting a real answer. Things he hadn't expected to see when asking the question.

"Well...yeah..." Rick said with a shrug. "I guess."

Michonne was looking at him too closely. He was sure she must notice every involuntary twitch his face made. Every loose eyelash on his cheek or long nose hair. He adjusted himself away from her. "What about you?" she asked. "You happy? I'm sure you are..."

Rick's brow pulled down slightly as he looked at her questioningly. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"'Cause it never took much to make you happy," Michonne said, a grin pulling across her lips. "I mean...if anyone can stay in a place like this and be happy...it's gotta be you."

Michonne laughed softly and Rick wanted to laugh with her, but he couldn't. "What do you mean by a place like this?" Rick asked, feeling slight heckled. King County may not be much, but it was his home. And yes, he was happy here. Well...relatively happy. And he thought Michonne used to be happy here too. With him?

"Oh...you know..." Michonne said, her grin softening. "Just...a small town with nothing much going on."

Rick nodded. Her dismissal of their home as just a boring old small town stung him a bit. 'You're just overreacting,' Rick thought. 'Of course King County isn't her thing. She left for a reason. And she's a big superstar now.'

"Yeah..." Rick said, deciding to move on because he didn't want her to view him in a negative light when he argued in defense of his town. Which he inevitably would do if they kept on this topic. "Well...what did you call me out here for again?"

A flash of rememberance touched Michonne's face and she looked down, recalling what she came out there for. Rick watched her pull a card from the waistband of her skirt. A card he hadn't noticed until now – it must have been hidden under her shawl before. "This..." she said, handing him the fancy, well-lettered card that felt expensive to the touch.

He never knew paper could feel expensive.

"I'm getting married," she finished. "And I want you to be there."

Rick's stomach dropped to his toes.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne watched Rick's forefinger glide over the gold lettering of her wedding invite. His silence penetrated the air, she looked up and observed Rick's downtrodden face.

Is he upset? Michonne thought, but she shook her head. He has no reason to be. She noticed at the parade the lack of a wedding ring on his finger when he caught her from falling. And the woman with the white blouse and jeans at the parade that seemed super into him. Yeah, he has no reason to be, she thought again closing her eyes.

Rick shifted beside her, leaning his weight to one side and placing the invitation behind him. He clasped his hands together and rested them in his lap.

"We should have dinner."

Michonne's eyes flew open, "What?" She just told him through a high-quality piece of paper that she was off the market and dinner was his response.

"You, Mike, and me." A cheeky grin etched on his face which only made Michonne's cheeks burn.

She nodded and cleared her throat, on paper that sounded like a great idea, but the lump in the back of Michonne's throat told her that she would need a buffer. "Could your friend, umm—Shane…" she snapped her fingers, remembering Rick's friend.

Rick groaned, but his smile didn't leave his face, but she could tell he was uncomfortable. "If you don't want to—," she continued.

"No," he reassured. "I'll have to invite Lori as well."

"Lori?"

"Shane's wife."

"Oh!" Michonne said in a surprising tone. Rick looked at her questioning, but then dismissingly shook his head.

"Shall we do this in a couple days?" He asked.

"I would have to get back with you on a specific date," she said. Rick nodded understandably.

"So, how did you and Mike meet?"

"He was my dad's assistant, at first, only managing small things when it came to my career." Michonne blinked back a sudden onset of tears threatening to fall down her face.

"Mr. Tealle needed an assistant?" Rick remembered her father being a man who when Michonne and Rick wanted to earn extra money by selling candy, he told them to sell several large boxes of candy and when they weren't selling fast enough, he decided to sell the candy himself. "Mr. 'If you want something done right, do it yourself'?" He shot Michonne an incredulous look which quickly softened when he saw the tears in Michonne's eyes.

Michonne's lips upturned into a reassuring smile, "I had to threaten him to hire someone."

"He couldn't have taken that well." Rick stared ahead and looked as if he was in the middle of a remembering the many times in the past, Michonne's father hadn't taken things well.

"No, but what could he do? It was his second heart attack. It was time to slow down, not that it mattered—." Michonne sighed deeply, rubbing her hands up and down her upper arm until she felt Rick's warmth as he wrapped his arm around her.

"I wish I could have been there for you," he said sullenly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't reach out to you. It was a small funeral and—I don't know…"

"You forgot about me?" Rick's question didn't sound like an accusation, but instead a forgone conclusion, Michonne shook her head.

"I wasn't in a good headspace which is how Mike and I became closer. He helped me a lot during that time and then we fell in love."

"What's he like?" Rick asked, squinting his eyes as if he was looking directly into the sun instead of at Michonne.

Michonne swallowed, "Great! He's great!" Her voice cracked and it sounded as if she was doing a Minnie Mouse impression.

"Good." She looked over at Rick who picked up the wedding invitation. Michonne wished she could read his mind, to see how he really felt. Their reunion had been riddled with awkward moments and now conversations, so far. And Michonne realized it would take more than just small talk to rebuild a friendship broken by time and distance.

Michonne's eyes left Rick and towards the scenery before them. There wasn't much to see downhill, besides their cars parked next to each other and the farm in the distance, there was a small park next to it, riddled with trash, a broken swing set, and lots of empty space.

"What happened to the park?" Michonne broke the silence and pointed to the desolate playground.

"You remember Mayor Glib?" Rick asked and Michonne nodded. "Well, he decided that instead of cleaning up certain parts of the town which included this playground. The money would be better spent on a brand new park on the other side."

Michonne nodded slowly, realization all over her face. "The rich side," she said flatly.

Rick didn't answer, he didn't have to because not much had really changed in King County since they were kids. "So, when I was told that my hometown was falling on hard times that wasn't particularly the full truth," Michonne continued.

"More like half."

Michonne shook her head, scoffing, "Unbelievable."

"You're not going to leave, are you?"

"I can't," Michonne said quickly. "I won't," she amended after seeing Rick's crestfallen expression.

"Good, cause the town still needs the support, Mich. And there is that dinner." Rick rubbed her shoulder and pulled her into him.

Michonne smiled and placed her hand over Rick's. "I can't wait to try your cooking, Richie," she said with laughter in her voice.

"Oh! I'm not cooking."

"Why not?!" She moved her head to see Rick's smirk.

"No way am I risking being labeled the man that killed America's Sweetheart with his shitty food," he declared.

Michonne looked away, blushing fiercely, "I am not America's Sweetheart, I'm Naomi Campbell Jr," she grumbled.

"Naomi Campbell Jr?" Rick's eyebrow raised.

Michonne shook her head, dismissing what she said. "Long story."

"That you must tell me later, right?"

"Right…" She said slowly, her eyes met him and she almost snorted at Rick giving her the 'People's Eyebrow', "Okay, I'll tell you later," she resigned.

"Good. And I may not be doing the cooking, Lori's a pretty good cook and—," Rick suddenly sat up straighter. "You know my dad always knew his way around the grill. I'm picking him up tomorrow."

Michonne eyes widen and then she quickly looked away, nodding her head, "that's great. Rick, I need to get going, ok." If it was possible, Michonne thought her heart had stopped beating, she felt as if death had grasped her into a tight grip. She yanked her hand from Rick and stood up so quickly she almost lost her balance.

"Michonne?" She heard the concern in his voice and knew a question would follow. She took a deep breath, not wanting a repeat of her first night in King County and walked, practically ran towards her car.

"Michonne, are you okay?" Rick yelled behind her.

"I'm great." She stopped, realizing that running away from Rick didn't exactly scream 'okay.' She was close to the bottom of the hill and turned around, putting on her brightest smile, "I promise Mike I'd meet him for our dinner date and I'm late," she laughed, a little too loud. "I'll see you later." She turned again, she could hear Rick coming down the hill as well, his footsteps were heavy and coming towards her fast.

Once to her car, she yanked open the door and entered. Where are my car keys? Michonne was in a race with herself, how far could she get away from Rick before her panic attack became full blown? Her chest was tight and sweat beaded down her face. It wasn't until she looked at her car dashboard did she realize her rental had a push to start ignition.

*knock knock*

"Fuck!" Michonne's head swiveled towards Rick who was at her car window. He shook Michonne's shawl while Michonne pressed the ignition button. The car mewed to life, cool air hitting her sweaty face as she pressed the down button for the window. "Thank you," she said grabbing the shawl and avoiding her friend's eyes.

"You're not okay, Mich," he said with a matter of fact tone, a tone she recognized most cops used when talking to a citizen. "If I said anything—."

"I'm fine, Richie," Michonne grinned and forced herself to make eye contact. "I'm good," she said emphatically. "I'll see you later." It was obvious from Rick's expression he didn't believe her, but he gave her a small smile and stepped away.

Michonne waited until Rick was at his own car before pulling out. She gave him a friendly wave and drove away.

…

Mike rented a two-story home on the "rich" side of King County from the town's only neurologist, its modern construction made the home stick out like a sore thumb amongst the more traditional colonial style houses, but it was a step above the hotel they stayed.

Michonne thought her panic attack would subside once she got to her new temporary residence, but her chest was still tight and her tears hadn't dried up. She parked in front of the garage door and pressed the on/off ignition button and sat back in her seat.

Breathe in, hold for 10, and slowly breathe out.

Michonne did six sets of these until her heartbeat slowed down and most of the tension she felt in her chest, neck, and shoulders alleviated. She reached over to the passenger side for her purse, her eyes forward she dug through her purse until her hand grasped her phone.

Michonne dialed the number of the person she needed to hear from the most.

"Andanya, how are you?" Aunt Jacqui 's voice was a comforting sound, but it brought more tears down Michonne's face. Michonne tried to stop herself, but she cried harder. "Michonne?"

"He's not dead," Michonne managed to choke out before she broke into more heavy sobs.

"Who's not dead?" Jacqui asked, clear confusion in her voice.

Michonne couldn't clarify if she could, breathe in, hold for 10, and slowly breathe out.

"Is Mike okay?

"Yes," Michonne gasped out.

Brief silence on the other line as Michonne tried to get herself under control and then she heard her aunt sigh, "Give me two days, I'll be there."

"No!" Michonne grabbed a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. "What about momma?"

"Michonne, your momma will be okay, she has around the clock care. And you should know that you hired them."

"I know."

"You need me more right now, okay baby."

Michonne nodded her head, pleading with herself not to cry anymore. "Okay. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

"Ok, I love you."

"I love you too… tell momma that I miss her." Michonne leaned forward and adjusted the rearview mirror to get a better look at herself. Her foundation was now streaky, eyelashes clumped and a trail of mascara ran down her face.

"I will and Michonne—."

"Yes?"

"Stay away from that fucking monster." Aunt Jacqui's voice was low and trembling. Michonne knew her aunt was angry which only made her bothersome tears welled up in her eyes.

"I will see you soon."

"Night, baby."

Ending the call, Michonne cleaned her face as much as she could, erasing signs that she just spent almost a half hour crying.

…

Only one high heel was off Michonne's foot when Mike came into the living room, a billion questions on the tip of his tongue. Michonne held up a hand and balancing on one foot took off her other shoe.

"Not tonight, Mike," she said, plopping down on the couch. Exhaustion had set in and so did a light headache.

"We have guests, Michonne and we've been waiting for you to start eating." Mike stood in front of her. Any other time she would be admiring how suave he looked before her. Black button up shirt and black pants. The top two-three buttons were undone, showing off his smooth mahogany neck.

"Eat without me."

Mike rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, "These guests are your co-workers."

Michonne looked at him, blankly and after a few seconds of their staring contest, she stood up. "I'm not in the mood. Eat without me." She walked by Mike, getting only halfway pass before he grabbed her arm.

"And what do I tell them?" His grip wasn't tight, but the fact that he couldn't see that she was upset was starting to hurt her.

Michonne looked at Mike in a stupor and fought back tears, "Do what you do best. Lie."

Snatching her arm from his grasp, she continued her walk to their upstairs bedroom where there she can bury herself under covers and sleep her problems away.


End file.
